












THIS NUMBER CONTAINS 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 

A TALE OF WASHINGTON LIFE. 

By HARRIET RIDDLE DAVIS, 

Author of “The Chapel of Ease,” “Gilbert Elgar’s Son,” etc. 


COMPLETE. 



MONTHLY MAGAZINE 


LIPPMCOTTC, CONTENTS 


No. 335. 




A 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS 

Harriet Riddle Davis 

577-672 

Medical Education ...... 

. A. L. Benedict 

• 673 

Heliopolis (Poem) 

. Frederick Peterson . 

. 678 

The Strike at Colchester . f . 

T. B. Exeter 

. 679 

A Dead City of Ceylon 

. Owen Hall ... 

. 685 

A Hundred and Twenty Miles an Hour . 

. Charles H. Cochrane 

689 

A Romance in Late Fall 

. Marjorie Richardson 

• 693 

November (Couplet) ...... 

. Grace F. Pennypacker . 

698 

With the Oyster Police 

. David Bruce Fitzgerald . 

. 699 

A Poet 

Geraldine Meyrick . 

- . 706 

The Pet Meanness 

. Frances Courtenay Baylor 

00 

0 

A Brush with Kiowas 

William Thotnson . 

. 7 11 

Come Not at Night (Poem) .... 

. Carrie Blake Morgan 

. 716 

“Our Fullest Throat of Song” 

William Cranston Lawton 

. 717 


PRICE TWENTY- FIVE CENTS 

PUBLISHED BY 

J:B:LIPPINCOTT:C2: PHILADELPHIA: 

LONDON: 10 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 

PARIS: BRENTANO’S, 37 AVENUE DE L’OPERA. 

Copyright, i8gs, by J. B. Lippincott Company. Entered at Philadelphia Post-Office as second-class matter. 





Timely Warning. 

The great success of the Chocolate Preparations 
of the house of 

Walter Baker & Co., 

(Established in 1780) 

has led to the placing on the market many mis- 
leading and unscrupulous imitations of their name, 
labels and wrappers. Walter Baker & Co., are 
the oldest and largest manufacturers of pure and high- 
grade Cocoas and Chocolates on this continent. 
No chemicals are used in their manufactures. 

Consumers should ask for, and be sure that they 
get, the genuine Walter Baker & Co.’s goods. 


Walter Baker & Co., 


Limited, 


Dorchester, flass. 



Mf(H0- 

CHICAGO 
&OGTON 
WASHINGTON 
NLWYORK 
BROOKLYN 
DETROIT- • 
GOVtNTRY 

tiN 


BAM BLEB 
BICYCLES 

16 5APE&LUXURI0U6 
EXERCI6E 


WMUMH 


: 


: 


"Bid Four 

ROUTE. 


THE TOURISTS’ LINE 

BETWEEN 

St. Louis, Peoria, Indianapolis, 
Cincinnati, Dayton, Columbus, 
Cleveland, Buffalo, 

NEW YORK AND BOSTON! 

FINEST TRAINS IN AMERICA. 

“ KNICKERBOCKER SPECIAL.” 
“SOUTHWESTERN LIMITED.” 
No Tunnel at St. Louis ! No Ferry at New York ! 



MAGNIFICENT DAILY TRAINS BETWEEN 

CINCINNATI , INDIANAPOLIS , ST. LOUIS , 
AND CHICAGO. 

M. E. Ingalls, E. O. McCormick, D. B. Martin, 
President. Pass. Traffic Mgr. Gen. Pass &Tkt. Agt. 




In Sight of the Goddess 


A TALE OF WASHINGTON LIFE. 



HARRIET RIDDLE DAVIS, 

w 

AUTHOR OF “THE CHAPEL OF EASE,” “GILBERT ELGAR’S SON,” ETC. 




PHILADELPHIA: 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. 


Copyright, 1895, by J. B. Lippincott Company. 


Printed by J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia, U.S.A. 


LIPPINCOTT’S 

MONTHLY ]\/[ AGAZINE - 

NOVEMBER, 1895. 

IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


CHAPTER I. 

TOLD BY STEPHEN. 

O F course a man who narrates his own experiences, who talks of 
himself, and who chronicles events both great and small, must 
necessarily lay himself open to being called garrulous, perhaps even vain. 
So I must submit to being charged with these petty crimes in trying to 
give an account of the queer position I occupied with these new people. 
I cannot remember at any time in my whole existence, not even during 
occasional periods of mellowness, that I have ever had a very exalted 
or roseate opinion of my own achievements in life. On the contrary, 
I can count various distinct times that I have had heavy reckonings 
with myself, in which I have administered severe and well-deserved 
mental kicks, notably in my affair with Mrs. Romney. But this last 
turn of the wheel left me in a dull state of amazement which wiped 
out all previous experiences. Let me state the situation in bold, clear 
English, without any softening of the outlines or garnishing of the 
truth. 

I, Stephen Barradale, for the sum of thirty-five hundred dollars a 
year, agreed to become the polite lackey to these new people. I agreed 
to keep the Madam’s visiting-book, to make out her visiting-list, to 
order her State functions, and to introduce Washington high life to her. 
These, in plain terms which could not be blinked, were the duties that 
were meant in the bond, although at the time I failed to understand 
them, to my everlasting regret be it said. 

I suppose I could never have had any ambition, for I remember 
that as a little chap my desire was to grow up to be a street-car driver. 
The only stumbling-block to me in this glorious career was my inde- 
cision as to whether I should run a car on F Street or on the Avenue. 

579 


580 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


That was as long ago as when we boys used to drop a penny into the 
little stone gutter in the Capitol grounds, up by the old fish-pond, and 
watch it roll along on end till it would come out at the big gates at 
the entrance, and there, unless we were spry, would be swallowed up 
in the mud and slime of the open drain that ran across the pavement. 
Those were the days when the sluggish old Tiber Creek flowed across 
the Avenue, covered over with a primitive wooden culvert, not always 
a safe conduit by any means. Sometimes there was a rickety wooden 
hand-rail along its sides, oftener there wasn’t. Then beyond the Tiber 
were all the little one-eyed shops that lined the streets on one side down 
as far as Shill ington’s book-store, the whole presided over by the ugly 
old Globe building. At Shillington’s we used to stand on tiptoe and 
flatten our noses against the window-panes to see the last prints in the 
picture papers, or, what was more likely still, we used to follow some 
passing drum and fife ; for, even though the war had long been over, 
there were always troops in our midst, and old dilapidated blue army 
wagons hobbling along through the mud-holes of the Avenue. But I 
don’t remember even while following the inspiring fife and drum ever 
having had any martial spirit or any fervor to become anything in life, 
not even a soldier. Clearly, I must have been without it in my com- 
position, for later at Young’s school the spark was not lighted, nor 
after that at college were there any stirrings of ambition that I can 
recall. I don’t remember ever having been an actual disgrace in my 
studies, but I was always content to scratch through narrowly, provided 
I stood well in the college team. 

No, that jade Fate has played me two unworthy tricks. It is true 
that she has endowed me liberally in some respects, for I think I may 
lay claim to brains, to superior physique, and certainly, without any 
undue vanity, to a kind of masculine good looks; but she stopped 
there. She did not give me the wherewithal, that nameless faculty for 
making life a success. But, far worse than that, she cursed me with 
birth in the District of Columbia. 

I have never been able to decide just where in these sixty square 
miles that make up the District the mischief lies that seems to play the 
devil with the most of us who have been afflicted with birth here. 
Certain it is that few of the native-born have ever attained anything in 
the way of success, and I am conspicuously not one of the few. There 
seems to be an enervation, a sort of mental malaria afloat, that lays 
waste, kills, or perverts any energy or ambition that nature might have 
endowed us with. 

I don’t know just what I expected to do with my life when I came 
home after graduation. I may have had some ideas on the subject be- 
fore I left my alma mater, but, if so, as soon' as I felt the lazy, para- 
lyzing atmosphere of my native place again, everything became un- 
comfortably vague, and, although I was confronted with the fact that 
I had my own living to earn, I was just about as much in the dark as 
to how I was going to do it as the traditional unborn babe. I know 
I had a pretty bad quarter of an hour, which somehow has managed 
to stretch itself over the best part of my life so far. 

But in all sober earnestness, while I am reviewing the situation and 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


581 


damning myself for being what I am, I ask what chance a fellow has 
to make a start in life if he remains in the District? There is no 
business save the small trades that go to supply the town, and the pro- 
fessions hold little or no inducements. No lawyer may ever rise beyond 
a modest local recognition : there can never be the goal of the Supreme 
Bench before him, he may not even hope to attain an ordinary District 
judgeship; for the Executive, with always a political debt to pay or a 
political future to consider, will not choose from a community behind 
which is neither State nor vote, and the same reason holds against 
various other positions within his gift. No one ever seems to consider 
the nonentity who is without the ballot. 

Nevertheless, I made an attempt at a profession. I have now 
somewhere in my possession a framed certificate of graduation at a law 
school and one of subsequent admission to the bar. Then I tried for a 
consulate, or a secretaryship in a foreign embassy. I was not even 
particular where it should be, so long as it was in the diplomatic ser- 
vice ; and upon this strong and influential pressure was brought to bear, 
but somehow it never came to anything. Then I tried going into a 
brokerage business. This seemed at last to be the very road to quick 
fortune, but here was disappointment again. An unsuspected strain in 
me of a certain inherited scrupulousness unfitted me for the turnings 
and twistings which this business seems to demand, and I finally 
abandoned it. Then, whimsically enough, my mind reverted to my 
ambition as a little chap to be a street-car driver. By Jove ! it wasn't 
a half-bad idea to stand on the platform of one of those slow-crawling 
green or yellow cars which do not get over the ground any faster than 
our citizens do on foot. Well, after months of waiting, wasted in the 
vain hope that something would turn up, I finally sauntered, or stum- 
bled, or fell, without further struggle, and naturally without enthusi- 
asm, into the great engulfing arms of the government. A department 
door swung behind me and swallowed me up, and I became a machine, 
•a thing without ambition, individuality, or illusions. I was Stateless, 
homeless, and voteless. 

Owing partly to my inclinations, which have ever led me to seek 
social distinction, and partly to the birthright of my old name, there 
have been few doors in the polite world that have not been open to 
me ; and this, together with the fact that I knew the ins and outs of 
social life here so thoroughly, was the means of springing the trap in 
which I was caught, and is the why and wherefore of this tirade and 
of my calling myself a spade. 

Through all my meanderings in life, while there are some shady 
and unsavory spots, still I have always managed to keep a fair amount 
of self-respect, but this self-respect, like Bob Acres's courage, oozed 
entirely before the inglorious combination of circumstances. For 
though I might delude myself with being the private secretary to a 
Secretary, and might even occasionally do his confidential writing or 
take down his private letters in short-hand, in reality I could not blink 
the fact that I was only the secretary to a Secretary's wife. My good 
and honored father would have turned in his admiral's grave had he 
known of it. And why did I submit to such a position ? Well, partly 


582 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


from lack of energy and ambition, and partly from a misapprehension 
in the first place. It all happened simply enough, too. 

I reached my desk rather late one morning, and knew that in all 
probability I should be docked for it; for it is one of the pleasing 
customs of this administration to know all the small doings of its em- 
ployees and to keep a tally on all who are in the least derelict. I re- 
member that as I passed the door-keeper he glanced at me sharply, and 
as I sprang up the stone steps that led to my corridor I knew a pencil- 
mark had gone down against my name. On entering our division and 
going to my desk, Billings looked up from his work and said, — 

“ A messenger has been in here looking for you, Barradale.” 

“ Anything up ?” I asked, half startled ; for another pleasing cus- 
tom of department life is that one’s tenure of office hangs continually 
in mid-air, like Mohammed’s coffin, with birds of evil omen circling 
about it. 

“ Don’t know,” he replied ; then, lowering his voice and making a 
significant motion of his hand, he said, — 

“ Miss Johns has just received a yellow envelope.” 

I glanced across at Miss Johns and saw her with her face buried in 
her arms on the desk before her; at her side the fateful yellow enve- 
lope ; on the floor the crumpled letter of dismissal ; and not a clerk 
in the whole room but had suspended work to pity her and to shudder 
in silence for himself. At the sight of her bowed head and the despair 
of her attitude, the gorge rose in me. Involuntarily my hand clinched 
and my lips curled in contempt for a great government run upon such 
lines, where faithfulness and ability go absolutely for naught, and 
where civil service is a daily lie. 

However, I had little time to indulge in contempt for my govern- 
ment, or in pity for Miss Johns. I felt that my own time had come. 
A messenger came hurrying in through the swinging green baize door 
and said to me, — 

“ The chief clerk wants to speak to you, sir.” 

Billings looked at me while this message was being delivered, as 
much as to say, “ Your time has come.” 

I stepped out into the corridor and made my way leisurely to the 
room of the chief clerk. As I went along I wondered what was up, 
what the complaint was to be, or, if it should prove to be outright dis- 
missal, what the cause was. I recalled with certainty that I had paid 
my assessment to the campaign fund, and that I had carefully held my 
tongue about some remarkable doings under the new head of a certain 
division. By the time I had jeached the end of the corridor I was 
convinced in my rapid review that there was nothing of a serious 
nature to be charged against me. As I entered the chief clerk’s room 
he nodded to me in his usual brusque way and went on with some 
writing. There was nothing for me to do but to await his pleasure or 
leisure. In a few moments he swung around in his chair and looked 
me over in a cool, contemplative sort of way, and finally, after a more 
lengthy survey of me than was agreeable, he condescended to jerk out 
a few curt sentences : 

“ Mr. Barradale, the Secretary has asked me to send him some one 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


583 


who has certain qualifications and a certain kind of knowledge about 

well, he will explain to you better than I can. I am informed 

that you are well equipped for what he wants. I think perhaps you 
may do. You will please present yourself to the Secretary immediately 
and say to him that Mr. Blunt thinks you are the man he is looking 
for. Good -morning.” 

He turned back to his desk, and I was dismissed. I was more 
surprised than I had been for many a long day, and immediately took 
up my line of march for the office of the Secretary. As I traversed 
the endless stone corridors, I wondered what the qualifications and 
knowledge were that I was supposed to possess, and what the Secretary 
proposed to do with them when he got them. I had never been sent 
for by the chief before, being altogether too subordinate ever to be 
wanted. 

When I reached the anteroom I found it filled with the usual crowd 
that always belongs to the waiting-room of a Secretary. There were 
one or two Congressmen, various applicants and supplicants, and at 
least two cranks, among the number, and on one and all of their faces 
were stamped hurry and anxiety. I had to cool my heels for a long 
time, and to see one after another admitted into the inner room while I 
was consumed with impatience, curiosity, and not a little apprehension. 
At last I sent in my name, and was promptly asked to state my busi- 
ness; but, as that was just what I could not do, I had to say that Mr. 
Blunt, the chief clerk, had sent me upon the Secretary’s own order. 
This brought me into the Secretary’s presence at once. 

He was in the midst of a low- toned conversation with some one, 
and merely glanced at me in an absent sort of way. 

As I stood about waiting for him to give me his attention, I had 
ample time to study him. 

The Honorable Horatio Childs had been appointed to a Cabinet 
portfolio from, the West, and political report had it that his appoint- 
ment was a direct reward for the vast sums of money he had con- 
tributed out of his own wealth to the campaign. Be that as it may, in 
the short time since the new administration had come in he had already 
proved himself one of the strongest and ablest men in the Cabinet, and, 
unless I was much mistaken, he was going to prove the soundest finan- 
cier the department had known in many a year. He was a natural- 
born organizer and handler of men, and I was soon to learn that he 
had the sternest sense of uprightness and was the most single-purposed 
man I had ever met. Afterwards I often wondered how, with such a 
make-up, coupled with high-strung mental sensitiveness and irrita- 
bility, he ever became a successful politician. He was tall and slight 
in build, with fast-whitening hair. His eyes were keen, though kindly, 
and he had that peculiar twang or intonation in his voice, accom- 
panied by occasional slips in pronunciation or speech, which belongs 
to some parts of the country and which marks the self-made man who 
has been too busy or too indifferent to free himself from the illiteracies 
peculiar to his section. As I stood aside, watching his quiet gestures 
and catching the tones of his quick nervous speech, I felt the power 
of the man ; and it was evident that the man to whom he was talking 


584 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


felt it also. The Secretary walked a few steps towards the door with 
the man, where they paused for a few moments in parting; then he 
turned back and approached me ; but it was evident that my name and 
business had slipped from his mind, for he said, in a quick, irritable 
voice, — 

“ What can I do for you, sir?” 

I could not prevent a smile of amusement creeping into my face 
at the idea of being sent on an unknown mission and then having it 
demanded of me in this stand-and-deliver fashion. I replied, with 
some little dignity, — 

“ I do not know what you can do for me, Mr. Secretary : that is 
just what I have come here to find out. Mr. Blunt, the chief clerk, 
sent me to you and told me to say to you that I am the man you are 
looking for. My name is Barradale.” 

“ Oh ! ah ! yes,” replied the Secretary, fixing his eyes on me 
piercingly and uncomprehendingly. Then his face lighted up. He 
smiled broadly. Memory had come to him. 

“ Mr. Barradale, come to my desk. Sit down : I want to talk to 
you.” 

I took the seat he indicated. He settled himself at his desk and 
seemed in no hurry to enlighten me as to why I had been summoned. 
Just then a messenger brought in a card. A darkening look came over 
the Secretary’s face as he read it. He said, curtly, — 

“ Ask him to wait a few moments, and don’t admit any one until 
I ring.” Then he turned to me and spoke rapidly : 

“ Mr. Barradale, I have need for the services of a private secretary, 
and I want some one who has been in Washington long enough to be- 
come acquainted with life here, some one who knows the ropes thor- 
oughly, both in official and social circles. In the press of business in 
the department I have not had time to look about for myself. I have 
asked Mr. Blunt to send me some one thoroughly qualified for my 
purpose. He mentioned you, and tells me you have been in the de- 
partment four or five years, that you stand well in your office. I 
understand that you were born in the District, that your people were 
of social importance here, that your father was an admiral in the navy, 
and that you yourself know every phase and every side of life here. 
Is this right ?” 

He paused and looked inquiringly at 'me. I was so dumfounded 
that I scarcely knew how to reply. I finally said, — 

“ Yes, Mr. Secretary, it is true that my father was an admiral in 
the navy, that I was born in the District, and that I know life here 
well.” 

“Then it seems that you are just the man I want. Will you 
undertake the work ?” 

I hesitated, and stammered, “ Mr. Secretary, I feel honored by 
your offer, but ” 

I did not know how to go on. This was a chance that had never 
come in my way before, but it was all so sudden. He had not said 
how permanent such work would be, nor defined what would be ex- 
pected of me; and I could not burn my bridges without knowing 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


585 


something more definite. This keen man must have read me through 
and through, for he said, with a half-cynical smile, — 

u Mr. Barradale, you shall lose nothing by your services to me. I 
will be frank with you. I want some one who is capable of serving 
me in various ways. I want a confidential man about me who will 
attend to my private correspondence, who perhaps will sometimes be 
sent to look after my private business when the pressure of public 
affairs will prevent me from thinking of my own concerns ; but also I 

want ” Here he stopped as if he did not know just how to go on. 

He began again with some hesitancy : 

“ Mr. Barradale, I am a man of simple tastes and habits. I know 
little of the life here, and I shall always be too busy to do more than 
what is actually required of me socially, but I want my family to take 
the position that they will be entitled to, and which my means will 
justify. I do not want any mistakes made at the outset. I feel that 
if I have some one near me who knows all about these things and how 

they are done in Washington ” 

There was a pause, and for a moment we looked each other squarely 
in the eyes. In a sudden flash I seemed to read more than his lips 
would say. Unconsciously a picture filled in the background. I 
thought that I fully understood the situation and all that his words 
had so delicately implied. There had been one or two lapses in his 
speech which grated on my Southern ear, and it was almost impossible 
to reconcile them with the man before me ; but the steady look in his 
eyes seemed to challenge me and to compel me to acknowledge his 
intellectual ascendency. I found myself saying with fervor and almost 
with eagerness, which were utterly foreign to me usually, — 

“Mr. Secretary, you may command me in any way; I will serve 
you to the best of my ability.” 

He replied quietly, but in a tone of kindly appreciation of my 
decision, — 

“I am glad, Mr. Barradale. We will talk further about this. I 
will send for you later in the day, when I have a little more leisure. 
I think you won't regret your decision.” 

He rose to dismiss me, and, touching his bell, said to the messenger 
who appeared, — 

“ Show in Senator Reagan. — Good-morning, Mr. Barradale.” 


CHAPTER II. 

TOLD BY STEPHEN. 

Some one has said that “ It is the first step that costs,” but I am 
inclined to dispute this wise old saw, for it was by no means the first 
step which cost me anything, unless I could so call the sudden feeling 
of freedom which took possession of me as soon as I had sent in my 
resignation to the department. 

This took place some time in July, and I entered upon my new 
duties with an enthusiasm that I had never felt before for anything 
that I can remember. I was surprised to find with how little difficulty 


586 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


I fitted into the position of private secretary. Partly from my long 
experience in the smart world, and partly from inheritance, I. pos- 
sessed a certain amount of tact which made it easy for me to estimate 
accurately, to remember and place everybody who approached the chief. 
Whenever, as was sometimes the case, it fell to me to stand between 
him and the horde of annoying, persistent men, often men of note, 
who frequently couched their wants in the form of demands or half- 
concealed threats, who had to be denied and yet who must not be 
offended, I think I showed a positive genius. 

The pressure that was brought to bear upon the Secretary during 
these first months of his incumbency was something stupendous, and 
as I came to have some comprehension of the magnitude of the inside 
workings of a great government, I found that various cherished and 
deep-rooted notions which had grown up with me would have to be 
got rid of. As the long, oppressive days slipped by and I watched 
this man, grasping in his strong hands all the petty details of the 
department, meeting every demand upon his brain and strength with a 
vigor and judgment that staggered me, I confess that the narrow lines 
upon which my ideas had been formed seemed suddenly to fade, a 
wider vista opened before me, and I felt for the first time the stirrings 
of ambition. The blood leaped in my veins in a way that gave me a 
new sensation ; I felt that, given the chance, I too, might be the shaper 
of a nation’s policy. 

These days were terribly enervating and hot. July was doing its 
worst in scorching the parks, in melting the pavements, and in bring- 
ing to the surface of the town all the queer waifs and strays that one 
does not notice much when the streets are not so empty and things are 
not so dead. 

Somehow I am always reminded of a great river which in its 
course has many still places where the water is darker-colored, perhaps 
stagnant, and its surface covered with bits of wood and all manner of 
half-worn and rotten stuff that have been flung there or have drifted 
into the haven out of the hurry and turmoil of the stream. Just such 
a bit of still water is Washington when the summer fairly sets in. 
Then it is that the odds and ends of humanity that have drifted in 
and lodged here come to the surface and stand out prominently against 
the background of deserted streets and empty parks. 

I never seemed to notice before how many of these half-cracked 
waifs there were here. They have wandered for years familiar figures 
through the corridors of public buildings, upon the promenades, in 
and out, always mysterious, always strange, and yet always more or 
less known. They somehow inevitably find their way past the vigilant 
watch kept to guard the door of high places, and I had to do battle 
with many of them as they drifted in past the door-keeper into the 
Secretary’s anteroom, where they had no business and from which they 
had to be unceremoniously hustled. During my first month in the 
Secretary’s office I developed quite a knack in dealing with these odds 
and ends of humanity. There was that strangest of all deformities, 
the “ soldier boy,” as he is familiarly known, whose head has grown 
to such enormous proportions that his frail, puny body is weighed 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


587 


down by it, and he is always topped off by a huge, battered old blue 
army cap which has earned him his sobriquet He came to beg for an 
interview with the Secretary and to enlist his aid in his behalf. He 
had sold his head to a medical college for the sum of five thousand 
dollars. They were kindly to allow him the use of it during his 
natural life, but, alas ! they were not paying down their money nor 
keeping their part of the bargain. Would Secretary Childs help him 
recover damages? I said politely but firmly that Secretary Childs 
couldn’t and wouldn’t. 

I had only escaped from the “ soldier boy” to fall into the clutches 
of number two in the army of nondescripts. This was Jane Thurston, 
who was most original in her demands. She owns the United States, 
and wants to dispose of some part of it in order to realize something. 
She told me in confidence that she would not ask much for the land 
and only three cents a head for the people, so it would be a bargain, 
and if the Secretary would help her to bring up her claim before Con- 
gress she would give him a handsome fee ; perhaps the State of Maine 
would satisfy him, if not, she would throw in Vermont. Well, I had 
to choke off, as best I could, this poor cracked woman, who is known 
to every lawyer and official in the District. But the worst of all my 
encounters was with the burly, herculean, swarthy Frankenstein who was 
found standing just within the door of the anteroom one morning when 
I rushed in from executing some mission outside the department. There 
he stood, perfectly immovable and absolutely silent. The messenger 
had disappeared, the door-keeper was gone, and the whole room was 
deserted of its usual applicants and visitors. I thought, as I glanced 
at the terrible object, that I understood fully the desertion manifest 
upon all sides. I knew the reputation that the mysterious Franken- 
stein bore, for he is never known to speak to any one, and woe to 
him who is brave enough to accost him. He shaves his forehead 
far back, and then paints the back of his neck black to represent hair. 
His shoulders are built up and padded far beyond nature’s limits. 
His hands never appear below his sleeves, but are hidden therein, 
and the rest of his dress is correspondingly strange and hideous. He 
will take up a position in some prominent place and stand for hours 
without moving. 

I did not know what to do with him, whether to speak to him or 
to let him stand there. While I was debating, one or two people came 
through the door from the corridor, evidently intending to send in a card 
to the Secretary, but one and all fled precipitately upon seeing the oc- 
cupant of the room. I finally made up my mind to accost him. I 
said, in a most courteous tone, — 

“ Do you wish to send in your card to the Secretary ? This is Cabi- 
net day, and he will not return from the White House for some little 
time.” 

There was no response, no change of attitude, even no quiver of 
the eyelashes. When some time later the Secretary came in and saw 
with amazement this strange visitor, I motioned him not to speak. I 
followed him into his inner room and there explained to him as much 
as I knew of the mysterious Frankenstein. It was decided to let him 


588 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


stand where he had taken up his position and to leave him unmolested. 
There he stood the livelong day, and always in the same attitude. 
Just a few minutes before the department closed, when we were won- 
dering how we should get rid of him, Frankenstein disappeared. N o 
one knew where he went or saw him go, but there was a sigh of relief 
from the Secretary down to the door-keeper. 

So the summer wore away, filled to me with congenial duties, and 
long before its close I knew that the Secretary felt for me a strong 
personal liking, and many were the hours that I found myself admitted 
to an intellectual companionship I never had known in my whole life 
before. He discussed with me almost every known question and topic 
of the day. I often was led on by him to talk more openly than per- 
haps I ought to have done, considering my position. He would pause 
in his nervous pacing up and down to look at me and to follow my rapid 
and blunt utterances. Sometimes these would take the form of fierce de- 
nunciations of the spoils system of government, or the abuses practised 
in his own department ; or perhaps I dared in my vehemence even to 
criticise the Chief Executive ; or, more likely still, I would hold forth 
on the disfranchisement and mode of governing the District of Co- 
lumbia. He would say, emphatically, — 

“ Stephen, you ought to be out growing up with a State. We need 
such young, vigorous blood as yours. I didn't know any one in the 
District felt or cared about these questions. You put things strongly." 

He would study me for a moment or two and then would resume 
his pacing. He often called me Stephen even during these early days, 
and I liked to hear him do so, for this man's magnetism, or force, or 
personality, or whatever it was, had already fast bound me to him, and 
holds me now, the strongest tie I know. 

Late in the summer I made a trip with him to Saratoga. The 
nature of it and the why and wherefore were not divulged to me, but 
I was not long in discovering for myself that the Secretary was assisting 
at a monetary conference at which were present the ablest financiers 
from all over the country, irrespective of party lines. But the Secre- 
tary never talked to me openly about it, and I of course never alluded 
to the object of this gathering of notable men ; and so quietly were 
their meetings conducted that nothing ever transpired in regard to it. 
Later he sent me to look after some business of a private nature. Then 
I learned how vast his interests were, what heavy responsibilities he 
lived under. 

He commended me warmly for my management of his affairs, and 
said that he thought it would be a good thing to make me his business 
agent rather than his secretary. He seemed to be turning me over in 
his mind, which was a way he had of doing, and I wondered if he 
found me wanting. 

I of course came in contact with my former associates in the de- 
partment, and I tried to do all that I could to help Miss Johns to a 
reinstatement of the position she had lost. I knew my place too well 
to presume upon my nearness to the Secretary to bespeak his interest 
in her behalf; but one day when he was discussing civil service I had 
an opportunity of taking the opposite view in the matter, and I cited 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


589 


her case as an illustration of the utter fallacy of civil service reform as 
I knew it to be practised. This drew out a question or two from him 
and some admissions from me. Several weeks later, there was a bomb- 
shell explosion. The new chief of a certain division was displaced, 
my old office was entirely overhauled, and in the general shaking up 
and rearrangement Miss Johns was given a desk. She never knew, 
however, that I was instrumental in her reinstatement. Of course I 
knew that the Secretary had been investigating things for himself, and 
from a number of changes and various new rules which were promul- 
gated it was evident that he had found just grounds for interference 
and reform. 

During the months I had been with him, one thing had struck me 
very forcibly, that he was a man who lived a singularly solitary life ; 
I mean that inner solitariness which must ever go hand in hand with 
a certain keen, high-strung, nervous intellectuality. I had had glimpses 
into his life and into his mind that made me think this, and I remember 
once in the course of a conversation concerning the influence that other 
minds have upon us, he quoted a line which was to the effect that in 
the original nature of everything there was the power given to preserve 
its existence, that each ought to strive for the great right of sovereignty 
which was naturally his. He said, — 

“ Stephen, this idea has always had a powerful influence upon me. 
I have perhaps lived too much in it.” 

He paused, and seemed to be pursuing some train of thought in 
far-away regions where I could not follow. I asked him finally, in a 
puzzled way, how it happened that with such a precept he had ever 
entered public life, or had been prevailed upon to accept a portfolio. 
He replied, with a sudden smile, — 

“Oh, Stephen, after all, we men Move the uppermost rooms at 
feasts, and the chief seats in the synagogues/ It is the touch of 
servility that underlies the make-up of all men : we want to look 
down upon those beneath us, and we are even willing for some to 
stand above us. I read somewhere the other day a clever thing by 
some writer who said that we are continually living over again the 
story of the creation ; that in the first order of things beasts were 
created and brought before Adam that he might give them names and 
places in the universe and that he might have dominion over them, but 
nowadays the human animal comes himself before his own kind and 
begs for a place, and cries, ‘ Give me a name, give me a title, that I 
may not be naked and ashamed/ ” 

There was a touch of humorous contempt in his tone that brought 
an answering smile to my face, yet I was impressed by his remark, as 
indeed I was with almost all his utterances. 

He had seldom talked of his family, but once or twice he had men- 
tioned names that I supposed must belong to them. Once, when al- 
luding to the prolonged absence in Europe of a grown child, he said, 
half bitterly, — 

“ Oh, well, it is only nature for the flower to fall from the stem.” 

I did not know whether this child whom he alluded to was a son 
or a daughter, for he was a reserved man in personal matters, and 


590 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


somehow I did not happen to ask the question. Towards the end of 
September, one quiet day, he received a telegram. He came to me 
with a half-troubled face, holding it in his hand, and said, — 

“ Stephen, my family will be here to-morrow night. It is high 

time they came and we were settled permanently somewhere, but ” 

He stopped, and did not finish the sentence. 

Of course I could not know what was in his mind. It seemed 
natural enough to me that they should come. Indeed, I wondered 
why they had not come before, and I said, warmly, — 

“ I am glad for your sake, Mr. Secretary, that they are coming. 
It has been a long, hard summer.” 

He made no reply, but twirled the telegram in his hand and seemed 
to be considering. There flashed over me suddenly a recollection of 
our first interview, when he had alluded to his family and had ex- 
pressed a desire to have some one near him who was familiar with 
social and official life. I wondered if he were going to say something 
about it now, and glanced at him half expectantly. As I met his eyes 
it seemed to me for an instant as if there were a mute appeal in them, 
but I could not be sure. He stood a moment longer, but did not speak, 
and finally turned back to his private room and shut the door noise- 
lessly. 

I did not dream that these were practically our last undisturbed 
days together. I went on with my writing, with a running accom- 
paniment of thoughts in the background. I had a well-defined im- 
pression that there was some element or some unrestrained force in the 
Secretary’s life that left him solitary. What could it be? He had 
alluded to an absent child almost pathetically, although he had clothed 
his speech in the dress of philosophy. I felt sure that, whatever it 
was that disturbed his life, he himself was blameless. 

No, decidedly it is not the first step which costs. It is the step in 
between, or the last and final step, or the step aside, but not the first 
step. At least it was so with me. 


CHAPTER III. 

TOED BY STEPHEN. 

It was only a few days after the arrival of the Secretary’s family 
that I was invited to meet them and to dine with them at their hotel. 
It was now the very end of September, and almost a midsummer heat 
still prevailed. At the appointed time I set out languidly to keep my 
engagement. I live at the club, and have lived there ever since the 
breaking up and final scattering of my family. It has always seemed 
to me that to a homeless man club salt is on the whole a good deal less 
tasteless than any other, and is rather calculated to make one feel less 
keenly one’s bereft condition : so the club holds for me my Lares and 
Penates, and it has been said of me that I have the gait and manner 
that always mark the inveterate club habitu'e. But with us we are so 
cosmopolitan that I doubt if any one could recognize any such stamp, 
which same cannot be said of our neighboring clubs. For who in this 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


591 


part of the world does not know a man from the Maryland, or from the 
Westmoreland, or even, be it said with bated breath, from the Union? 
But our men, belonging as they do to every nation that is accredited 
here, make it difficult to fasten upon us any imputation of sectionalism. 

When I stepped out from the electric glare of the club, the streets 
were unlighted and utterly dark, and they were as sultry as they were 
dark. It happened to be one of our periods of corporation gaslight, 
when the moon ought to have shone and did not, which failure on her 
part was by no manner of means the concern of anybody or anything in 
the District, save Nature herself. The city fathers have no part nor 
parcel, apparently, in the general arrangement of things. Therefore 
I walked rather mincingly and carefully along past familiar houses 
that were shut up, silent and lightless, past the park with its great 
historic trees looming up in the night, past the statue of “ Old Hickory,” 
which the friendly darkness hid from me, but which I knew still stood 
where it has stood for so many years pawing the air in mid-heaven, 
with its cocked hat waving in the breeze, — or at least it would wave 
if it did not weigh a ton or two ; and I smiled to myself as I recalled 
the tale of how Charles Sumner had hurried Thackeray past this same 
statue, hoping that the great novelist would not remark upon it, and 
when they were almost safely by Thackeray had asked slyly what had 
become of the rockers. 

There was no breath of air, no stirring of the leaves. An occa- 
sional tree-toad or belated cricket that sang or chirped from the shrub- 
bery of the park gave me a sudden boyish feeling of homesickness or 
longing — for what? I could scarcely have told. 

I had been vaguely picturing to myself these new people whom I 
was going to meet for the first time. I had only a mild curiosity re- 
garding them. I had somehow thought of Mrs. Childs as a comfort- 
able, motherly woman who would doubtless accentuate the occasional 
inaccuracies or illiteracies of the Secretary. I had even fancied that 
her face would be marked with sweet, deep lines that would convey an 
idea of ripe sense and wise and prudent thought. With this picture in 
my mind I was therefore totally unprepared for the woman to whom I 
was presented. The Secretary had scarcely named me to her when a con- 
viction as strong as it was sudden flashed over me that here was the 
element or force which left him in the midst of his strenuous life a 
lonely man. 

She was not more than forty-five years of age. I could easily im- 
agine that she had been handsome in a highly colored way which some- 
times passes muster in the first flush of youth, but which with the 
touch of time becomes hard and florid and degenerates into an uncom- 
promising hopelessness. Although she was neither very tall nor large, 
she somehow conveyed the idea of large proportions. Her hair was 
dark, her eyes were hard and shining, her mouth was drawn in a 
straight, unyielding line, and her voice had the most penetrating, per- 
vading tone I had ever heard. 

The only other member of the family who was present was a half- 
grown son, neither boy nor man, at that abominable age so trying to 
everybody nearest to him ; when a mother rests her irritated soul in 


592 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


the memory of his babyhood and shuts her eyes to the possibilities of 
coming years : an age when his nature has not escaped from the bar- 
barism which seems to be the normal state of the young male, as I 
remember only too well, when he picks up the semi-vices of men and 
is loud and rude from impulse. He had an enlarged baby face, soft 
and handsome, relieved by a strongly marked brow, that was the exact 
counterpart of the Secretary’s. His hair was cut in that hideous 
fashion which is so much affected by the youth of the present foot-ball 
age. He called his father “ governor” and his mother “ old lady,” 
and I felt an absolute certainty that it would be a matter of only a 
short time before I should be dubbed “ old chap” or “ chappie.” And 
yet, somehow, I liked the young cub from the first moment. 

I do not know just how 1 had gained the impression that there 
were others in the Secretary’s family. I know that I was half expect- 
ing all that evening that some one else would appear who would make 
the group more nearly complete, but dinner was announced and served 
and no one else joined us. 

My attention had been caught and held early in the evening by a 
photograph of a beautiful girl, or so she seemed to be with all the 
latest arts of the photographer brought to bear upon her. The picture 
stood on a small table, and my glances kept wandering towards it con- 
tinually. This did not escape the quick, restless eyes of Mrs. Childs, 
who said finally, in a curt tone, — 

“ That is a picture of Constance, Mr. Childs’s daughter.” 

I was so surprised at the wording of this statement and the manner 
accompanying it that involuntarily I looked questioningly at her. 
Was not the girl her child too? I wondered. There was certainly no 
resemblance to her, but, for that matter, neither did the son resemble 
her. There was silence for a moment ; then the Secretary said, taking 
up the picture and looking at it, — 

“ Yes, this is Constance, my eldest child, Stephen. She has been 
in Europe two or three years, but she will come home this winter ; we 
shall want her.” 

As he said this he glanced across at Mrs. Childs half interrogatively, 
but there was no answering look. Then Sandy, by which name the son 
was called, lounged forward with his hands in his pockets and said, — 

“ I just tell you, Mr. Barradale, you ought to see Conny. She’s a 
ripper, a regular ripper; but she and the old lady here don’t hit it off" 
somehow, so Conny stays ” 

But Sandy did not finish this extraordinary explanation. The 
Secretary’s hand came down in heavy pressure on his shoulder, there 
was a play of lightning in his eyes, and the indiscreet disclosure was 
cut short. The young cub had the grace to flush all over his fair baby 
face, and I was left to ponder uncomfortably the meaning of it all. 
There was constrained silence. My natural man’s impulse was to 
praise the beauty of the girl, but something in the face of the woman 
opposite made me deem it prudent to stay my words of admiration. 
The family skeleton had been dangled before my eyes, and it took all 
the tact I possessed to rescue us all from the dangerous ground we 
were treading upon. Sandy happily diverted our thoughts and tongues 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


593 


by asking about foot-ball as played in this part of the world, and the 
eagerness with which the discussion of athletic sports was taken up 
testified to the relief that was felt in a new topic. Sandy’s respect for 
me mounted considerably upon learning that I had been a foot-ball 
player in my college eleven. A little later the question of the location 
of the family for the winter came up, and for the first time I perceived 
that I had not understood the bond I had entered into when I had 
made my bargain with the Secretary in the beginning. Mrs. Childs 
took possession of the conversation, and said, in her high, penetrating 
voice, — 

“ I told Mr. Childs, Mr. Barradale, that he must be sure to look 
up some one nice who would take charge of things for us here in 
Washington, and that he could have you all summer, but that I should 
want you for the winter ; and I think, if you will be so kind, you had 
better begin at once by looking us up a desirable house.” 

I was never so surprised in my life. I wondered if I had heard 
aright. I looked at her, and then across at the Secretary, only to 
encounter in his eyes a dumb look of appeal. I managed to say, 
turning to Mrs. Childs, — 

“ I shall be happy, of course, to serve you in any way that my 
time will permit, Mrs. Childs ; but you know that a private secretary 
is not his own master, and my duties to the Secretary are to be con- 
sidered first.” 

Thereupon Mrs. Childs turned sharply and said, — 

“ Didn’t you explain to Mr. Barradale that his real duties as secre- 
tary would be to me, Mr. Childs?” 

"Well, not exactly that, my dear. I dare say I can spare Stephen 
to you until we are settled and in running order for the winter, but 
the truth is I have grown to rely on Stephen, and it will be hard for 
me to grow accustomed to any one else, even temporarily.” 

He looked at me as he spoke, and I felt, as I often had done before, 
the subtle influence he seemed to possess for me, but nevertheless I did 
not like the situation, and I determined to make a stand. 

“ Really, Mrs. Childs, the only duties I am capable of performing 
are those that I am accustomed to : I shall be of no use, I fear, in the 
way you mention. I shall be delighted if I can suggest anything, or 

supplement any arrangement of yours, but ” And I laughed 

pleasantly without finishing my sentence, as if I had said all there 
was to say in declining. She answered, persuasively, — 

“ Oh, come now, Mr. Barradale, you must not say you can be of 
no use to me; you are a Washingtonian, you are a society man, and 
therefore you will be exactly the right man in the right place. Now I 
want you to come here to-morrow morning and give me your help and 
advice. I won’t enter into anything to-night, but you will be doing a 

real service to us, to me, to the Secretary, and ” Here she paused 

an instant; then she looked up keenly at me and added, artfully, “and 
to Constance.” 

She evidently had read in my eyes my admiration for the fair girl 
in the photograph. She knew the vulnerable spots in a man’s make- 
up, and she played upon this particular one with her not very delicate 
Vol. LVI.— 38 


594 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


touch. And I, with all the dishonesty that men invariably use towards 
women in never facing squarely any disagreeable question with them, 
tried to make vague promises, to temporize, to put off Mrs. Childs; 
but I might just as well have tried to stem the power of Great Falls. 
Before I knew it, I had been overborne step by step, till I had con- 
sented with what grace I could muster to come to the hotel in the 
morning and hold conference with the Secretary’s wife concerning her 
menage. But I was inwardly sulky at the prospect. I did not stay 
long after that. I soon found myself out in the dark streets again. 
The Secretary followed me, and, putting his arm through mine, walked 
along with me and said, — 

“ I will go up as far as the club with you. I want to explain one 
or two things to you.” 

His quick, springing step was more full of energy and life than 
mine, and I had to quicken my own more languid gait to keep up 
with him. But his speech was slow, and the explanation was long in 
coming. At last he said, abruptly, — 

“ Stephen, Mrs. Childs is my second wife. Constance is my 
daughter, but not hers. Constance and Sandy are only half-brother 

and sister. Constance’s mother ” and there was a pause which to 

me seemed significant. In a few minutes he continued quietly, — 

“ Constance’s mother shared all my early struggles when I was only 
a sort of hired man, or at best only working on shares on a rough 
Western farm. She died before I ever attained anything, or before I 
knew it was in me to attain anything. She never knew any but the 
hard, unlovely beginning to my career. Afterwards I married again. 
The present Mrs. Childs has been a great factor in my later life. She 
has ability and ambition, and a wonderful faculty for gaining an end. 
She has done much to put me where I am. I should like, Stephen, to 
have you meet her wishes and plans as nearly as you can ; you will be 
serving me as truly in so doing as you are serving me now, and it will 
be at most only a temporary thing.” 

He paused and faced me. We had now traversed the length of 
the street between the hotel and the club, and stood in the electric light 
from the vestibule. He was regarding me intently, half wistfully, half 
commandingly. I did not like the idea of serving Mrs. Childs even 
temporarily, but I found myself saying heartily, — 

“ Don’t say another word, sir ; I will do as you desire. I will 
serve you now and always to the best of my ability and in whatever 
way you may designate.” 

I put out my hand in token of the compact. He shook it warmly 
and seemed loath to part. I noticed it, and said, — 

“ Come in and play pool, sir : you have scarcely been in the club 
since your election to it.” 

“ Not to-night, my boy,” he replied. 

He turned suddenly and was swallowed up in the utter darkness 
of the street. The lazy jog of a passing car as it turned the street 
corner, the backing up of a herdic cab at the curbstone, and his re- 
treating footsteps, were the only sights and sounds in the still Sep- 
tember night. 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS . 


595 


I stood on the threshold, thinking over the events of the evening 
and the promises I had made for the morrow, which, if my instinct 
did not fail me, would bind me for most of the morrows that should 
dawn during the coming season. I was wondering what would be the 
outcome of my odd relations to these new-comers, and was getting some 
jeering amusement out of it at my own expense, when Hargate of the 
British Embassy, with his monocle screwed into his eye, came rushing 
headlong up the steps, bent nearly double, which is his manner of 
carrying himself, and which, by the way, seems to be the preferred 
manner of walking of many of the foreigners. He dragged me inside 
with him to make up a game, but we had not got much beyond the 
swing doors when we encountered Roger Macon. 

Macon is to my mind one of the handsomest men I have ever seen. 
He is a Virginian, and, speaking of club types, Westmoreland is written 
all over him. He is ‘only a non-resident member with us, and I had 
not known that he was in town. He came towards us rapidly, I 
thought almost violently, and when we were face to face I saw that he 
looked haggard and pale. I dropped apart from Hargate to speak to 
him. 

“ Why, Macon, old man, what’s up? You don’t look very fit.” 

“ I’ve been hunting all over the place for you, Barradale. Can you 
give me a few minutes’ time ?” 

“ Of course,” I replied. I excused myself from Hargate and led 
the way into the loggia. Macon followed me. We took possession 
of the most remote table and ordered drinks. For a short space of 
time he did not speak, but regarded me gloomily ; then he asked me 
abruptly, — 

“ Do you know Mrs. Romney ?” 

I felt the muscles around my mouth tighten suddenly, and involun- 
tarily I closed my hand, but I kept my eyes on Macon. What was he 
going to rake up ? I wondered. I replied, without hesitation, — 

“ Yes, I know Mrs. Romney.” 

“But you know her very well, do you not?” He watched me 
narrowly. I knocked off the ash of my cigar slowly, and answered, — 

“ Yes, I know Mrs. Romney fairly well.” 

“ Barradale, is it true that Mrs. Romney has a husband living ?” 

“ Yes, it is true,” I replied, briefly ; then I added, after a moment, 
“ Any one else could have told you as much, Macon.” 

Macon’s hands shut spasmodically. His lips were compressed. 
Finally he demanded, fiercely, — 

“ Why should Romney’s existence have been kept dark ? Tell me 
all you know of him.” 

“Why do you come to me and take this tone? What has hap- 
pened ?” I asked, thoroughly nettled. Then I went on after a moment : 
“ There is little to tell about Mrs. Romney. She is young, pretty, and 
gay. She is in society, and she is living apart from her husband. I 
have understood that Romney was an impossible sort of man as a 
husband. When I first knew Mrs. Romney I had supposed her to be 
a widow, until I learned unexpectedly and unpleasantly that she wasn’t.” 

“ Then you were one of her victims ?” he queried, with a sneer. 


596 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


I merely shrugged my shoulders. His face grew dark. He leaned 
towards me, and said, significantly, — 

“ I am told, Barradale, that you are Mrs. Romney’s friend.” 

I felt the blood mount to my face. The insinuation was not to be 
borne. I sprang to my feet in hot anger. “ See here, Macon, your 
tone and manner are little short of offensive. What do you mean ?” 

Macon rose to his feet at the same time, and we faced each other. 
Of course such an abrupt movement attracted attention, and our men- 
acing attitude towards each other brought two men in the opposite 
corner to their feet. There was an ominous pause. Suddenly Macon’s 
tense manner relaxed, the sneer died out of his face, and was succeeded 
by the most haggard misery I have ever seen in a man’s eyes. He 
dropped back into his chair quietly, and said, — 

“ I beg pardon, Barradale ; I do not want to pick a quarrel. Sit 
down again ; I want to ask a question, and I want you to answer it 
honestly, as between man and man.” 

I sat down again, of course. He leaned across the table earnestly, 
and, lowering his voice, said, — 

“ I have just heard your name coupled with hers, and I have also 
just heard for the first time that Romney is living. Well, Barradale, 
there’s no need to explain further. I am the most miserable man on 
God’s earth.” 

His eyes were indeed miserable. I could not but pity him, for I 
understood the situation only too well. He went on : 

“ I have come to you to know the truth, and I am going to ask for 
it plainly. Is there an affair between Mrs. Romney and you ?” 

“ None, absolutely,” I curtly and emphatically replied. 

Macon drew a long breath. There was a pause. I was on the 
point of giving him the unvarnished truth about Mrs. Romney, but I 
hesitated. He was too wretched and too fierce just then to have been 
grateful to me if I had ; and, besides, he was finding it out for himself. 
Afterwards I was sorry I had not spoken, for I was destined to hear 
more of the affair in the near future. 

The whole scene had been so sudden, so brief, and so deucedly un- 
comfortable that when Macon left the club, which he did almost im- 
mediately, I did not learn anything about his movements or intentions, 
save that he was leaving town that night. 

After he had gone I went and hunted up Hargate and the game. 
I plunged into it, and was glad to forget my interview with Macon in 
the loggia. 


CHAPTER IV. 

TOLD BY STEPHEN. 

If I were to go into all the details of the succeeding days, of my 
conferences with Mrs. Childs and of my interviews with real estate 
men in the endeavor to locate the Secretary’s family for the coming 
season, I should become as tiresome as a certain popular novelist did 
who in countless pages portrayed the dreary wanderings of two of his 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


597 


favorite characters in their search of a flat. During these days I often 
ground my teeth over the task I had undertaken. 

It is needless to say that I soon learned that Mrs. Childs felt the 
importance of money and position, and that she meant to make the 
most of them in the brief four years before her. I felt a kind of 
relief and satisfaction in this fact, for it would be a much more popular 
thing to overdo the position than to fall short in public expectation, 
and I had a vivid recollection of a predecessor of hers some years ago 
who persisted in driving about in the department wagon, to the utter 
scandalizing of the community, and who, when remonstrated with for 
so extraordinary a proceeding, had tersely disclaimed, in a vernacular 
entirely her own, there being any “ sculduggery” about her, whatever 
that might mean. So, when Mrs. Childs wished to lease a showy white 
stone house with monstrous caryatids supporting the eaves and impos- 
sible lions guarding the door-way, I felt that her error in taste was at 
least encouraging, and that it would be a more hopeful task to tone her 
down to a quieter selection than it would have been to key her to a 
higher pitch had her choice fallen below the requirements of the situa- 
tion. But we had some discouraging and annoying skirmishes before 
anything was accomplished. It seemed as if there were nothing in all 
the town that pleased her ladyship save the aforesaid white monstrosity, 
but against that I had set my face, and I was supported by the Secre- 
tary. At last I had an inspiration, and I flattered myself that I had 
been quite adroit when I finally installed the family in a spacious old- 
fashioned house, in which all the appointments bore the hall-mark of 
gentility and race. 

It was a house that had been known to me from my earliest recol- 
lection. Familiar figures trooped through every room. I could still 
see a stately man of the old school moving about, and I almost felt 
again his awe-inspiring manner. What would his feelings have been 
had he known that the old family mansion would pass entirely out of 
the hands of his descendants, and that his own grandson would one 
day be installing strangers therein? Of course the Childs knew 
nothing of this. They did not know to whom the old house had once 
belonged. They did not know what ghosts peopled it to me. I 
should keep the knowledge to myself, and I hoped no idle tongue 
would inform them. 

When everything was done that I could do, when the corps of 
servants was complete, when horses and correct carriages were in the 
stable and the last touches were given, these new people, whose lackey 
I had become, moved into my grandfather’s house. I could not help 
awaiting with some curiosity their comments. Sandy said, as he tore 
all over the house, his footsteps sounding like a cavalry charge, — 

“ What a jolly old house this is ! I say, governor, I can see all 
the way down the river from the cupola.” 

Mrs. Childs looked about regretfully, and said, in a quick, com- 
plaining tone, — 

“ Dear me, what a barn of a house ! People don’t know half how 
to live down South here. I wish the drawing-room had been done 
over in white and gold. The crystal chandelier isn’t bad, though it is 


598 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


clumsy and old-fashioned, but of course the rooms will look very 
different when I fill in a few modern chairs in bright satin, and some 
bits of new bric-d-brac. The stuff in that cabinet over there must 
have come out of the Ark, and the ball-room is perfectly hideous. I 
can’t for the life of me see why any one should want those queer 
mirrors between all the windows, and those long spindle-legged chairs 
— or are they sofas ? They are simply terrible. I shall move them 
all out the first thing I do.” 

I half sighed and half smiled at the fate in store for the old 
Chippendale and the quaint Venetian mirrors which had been brought 
from Italy and had been one of the wonders of the town in a long- 
gone-by day, and which would be regarded almost as a patent of 
nobility by most people ; but I knew that Mrs. Childs was still re- 
gretting the white stone mansion with the lions and caryatids. 

As for the Secretary, he walked silently about with his hands 
clasped behind him. He looked long and thoughtfully out of the 
little round windows at the top of the house, from which could be 
seen a wide, sluggish river, bounded in the distance by the soft, green 
banks of the Virginia shore, against which in relief stood out an old 
yellow mansion-house, grim, lonely, and historic. As he turned away 
from the view he sighed and said, — 

“ It was a terrible struggle, Stephen, and it is painful even now to 
look at that old place and remember all that Robert Lee gave up. Let 
me see, some of your own people were on the other side in the Rebel- 
lion, weren’t they ?” 

“Yes, my grandfather was entirely rebel in his sympathies, so 
much so that a guard was kept around this — around his house for 
months. My father’s oldest brother fought and died for the lost cause, 
my father himself being the only one of his family whose allegiance 
to the government never wavered. He was given command of a ship 
at a very early age, and there was a terrible and bitter breach between 
him and my grandfather. All this is hearsay with me, for I was too 
little a chap to know of such things at that time, having been ushered 
into the world with the guns of Sumter.” 

“ This old house pleases me exactly, Stephen. The man who built 
it and lived in it was evidently no self-made man. He must have 
come of an old line that had known only the cultured side of life. 
Look at these queer bits of carving : they must have been brought 
from Europe. Constance will like this. She and I are a good deal 
alike in our tastes. Do you know anything about the former owners ?” 

“ Only that their story is common enough in this part of the world. 
They were ruined by the war. When the last owner died, about twelve 
years ago, he had nothing to bequeath but debts and a pension to his 
widow.” (God forgive me, I was speaking of my own father.) “ This 
old house was covered up with mortgages, and of course it passed 
away from the original family, together with everything in it. I 
happened to know it could be leased, and I am glad that it is satis- 
factory.” 

“ That scroll-work over there almost forms a letter : it looks like 
B,” said the Secretary. 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


599 


Luckily, lie was speaking absently, and I did not reply. I felt a 
singular reluctance to acknowledge my relationship to the old place, 
and I wished with all my heart that I had encouraged Mrs. Childs to 
lease the white monstrosity upon which her heart had been set in the 
first place ; but it was too late. I had of my own free will precipitated 
these people almost headlong into this particular house, and I was just 
beginning to count the cost of what I had done. My feelings can 
better be imagined than described when I remembered that I should 
have to face the entire smart world in the character of major-domo to 
these people in my own grandfather’s house. The situation was rare, 
and caused me some exquisite, though grim, amusement. 

Sometimes it seemed more herculean than my temper and self- 
respect could bear ; for, when all was said and done, what did I know 
about the running of an official household ? or, for that matter, what 
did I know about running a household of any kind? and I was called 
upon for every petty thing imaginable. Mrs. Childs would make a 
great show of consulting me upon all points, and then, woman-like, go 
and do just as she had made up her mind to do. I did, however, dis- 
suade her from using a crest upon the panels of her carriages, — which 
took some little tact to accomplish, for she had just received a very 
impressive-looking one with martlets upon it from a well-known firm 
in New York : I also saved the Chippendale and Venetian mirrors 
from banishment. It was Figaro gi , Figaro every day in the week, 
except when I would take refuge with the Secretary and write up for 
him his arrears of correspondence. 

I had not heard anything further of Roger Macon, but I learned 
that Mrs. Romney had returned to town from a coaching-trip, and 
then I heard through the constantly-sifting gossip of the club that 
Macon had met Mrs. Romney on this coaching-trip and had at once 
become infatuated with her. He had followed her from place to 
place, and even to Washington, where he had immediately learned 
that there was a stumbling-block in the shape of Romney, and, as he 
had thought, still another in the shape of myself. I could not help 
wishing that I had spoken out frankly at the club, as my impulse had 
dictated. What an egregious fool a man can be about a woman when 
given the inclination and an unhindered opportunity ! 

The autumn was now well advanced. People were beginning to 
flock back to town. Houses were being opened up in all directions. The 
same old set began to take their familiar places in public once more. The 
Bachelors reorganized, and we had our usual yearly wraugle over the 
list of admissions. The more conservative members, with their ever- 
vigilant eyes, scanned the membership list carefully lest some taint of 
trade should creep within our hallowed midst; though of course we 
were ready to stretch out our arms in welcome to any unchallenged 
sprig from the embassies who might perchance have arrived on this 
side during the summer.- The Hunt Club also woke again to new life 
and elected a new M.F.H. A date was set for the first run, and it was 
devoutly hoped that traditional hunting weather would prevail, with a 
southerly wind and a cloudy sky. The meet was to be this side of 
Dumblaneand the finish to be at the new club-house, where the hunters 


600 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


and the visitors who should go to see the throw-off were to stop for 
tea afterwards. 

The one lasting enthusiasm I have ever had, and the only one that 
has ever seemed worth while, has been my love of horses. If I were 
to tell of the sacrifices, the shifts I have made to keep my mare Ste- 
phane from following in the wake of my other possessions, I should 
make the eyes of my polite friends open rather wide. StSphane has 
been my one lasting passion. She has never failed me, and I made up 
my mind long ago that when the time should come that I could no 
longer provide for her I should lead her out into the free and open 
country and there end it all with a bullet between her faithful eyes. I 
think she has always understood this in her dumb brute way ; for 
sometimes when I have been unusually down and have ridden gloomily 
out into the country away from asphalt pavements, she has turned her 
grave, almost human eyes upon me as much as to say, “ Don’t do it to- 
day, master.” 

She has carried me a winner through several steeple-chases ; she 
has followed the longest hunts, always close to the hounds and rarely 
absent at the death; water jumps, worm fences, prickly hedges, are as 
nothing to her quick, unerring eye, her supple sinews. It is only a 
heavily ploughed field that can have power to stay her stride. No one 
will ever know the respect I have for St6phane. She is the only one 
of her sex that is never capricious, never changeable ; and the red- 
brown gloss of her head is as beautiful as ever the red-brown tresses 
of a woman could be. During the scorching hot months of summer 
she had been browsing in green country pastures with her shoes off, but 
with the early awakening autumn sports she had been brought to town 
and shod and was ready for the first run of the hounds. 

I persuaded the Secretary and Mrs. Childs to drive out to the meet 
and afterwards to come to the club-house for tea, where I should meet 
them and act as host. I knew it would be a good opportunity to pre- 
sent to them thus early a few of the right people among those who 
were entirely outside of official circles. Accordingly, they drove out 
in their new cabriolet, and when the run was over I dismounted and 
approached their carriage to beg them to come inside the club-house for 
tea. As I went towards them I was secretly amused at the interroga- 
tive glances from both coachman and footman which plainly asked of 
me, “ Are we all right? Are we doing the thing properly?” I was, 
however, a little staggered by the cool nod which Mrs. Childs bestowed 
upon me, and hastened to present to her the two most important per- 
sonages present, the French ambassador and the Honorable Arthur 
Alan Butler Hargate. Not that I presented the latter with all the 
flourish of his many names, but I was a little bit nettled at the con- 
descending nod I had received, and therefore gave Hargate rather more 
of a send-off than I usually bestow on him. But if I was impressed 
with the coolness of Madam’s greeting to me, judge how much more I 
was impressed when she addressed the French ambassador in French, 
— crude and clumsy French if you will, but nevertheless French. 
As for the Secretary himself, he was undisguisedly pleased by the 
whole scene and surroundings, — the sharp, damp air, the stretch of 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


601 


open country, the mounted horsemen, the impatient, drooping hounds, 
the quick-moving figures of the gay throng, all thrown into relief by 
the dark line of woods in the background and the warm, old-fashioned 
farm-house in the foreground. I knew the Secretary was pleased and 
interested. I also saw that he had an eye for a horse, for he took in 
StSphane’s points at once and said, — 

“ I didn’t know you owned such a piece of horse-flesh, Stephen ?” 

“ It is my one folly, sir.” 

Just then a general move was made towards the club-house, and I 
ushered the Secretary and Mrs. Childs into the primitive little drawing- 
room, with its low ceiling, its old-time furniture, and its faint, musty 
smell. As my eye swept over the room I was rather taken aback to 
find that Mrs. Romney was pouring tea at the tea-table ; but before I 
had time to make any recognition of the fact my attention was dis- 
tracted by the sound of my own name, and I heard just behind me in 
a loud voice, that evidently took no heed of the surrounding crowd, — 

“ Stephen Barradale can work it for us, if he only will ; he’s here, 
with ’em to-day.” 

I knew the voice well. Its owner belonged to the smart set, and 
was a young woman whose tongue was a good deal longer than her 
pedigree. I turned at once to find myself face to face with a group of 
fashionable girls, — girls with unimpeachable frocks, unimpeachable 
appearance, sleek and well groomed. They were perfect types of the 
smart set that belongs to all society the world over in this end-of-the- 
century, electric-light age. Their creed is to waste no courtesy on 
anybody outside of their own immediate set, or on any one who can- 
not give them something in return. But I don’t know that I ought 
to rail at the fashionable girl of the day. Providence, no doubt, was 
wise in fashioning her as he did ; for, in the language of Mrs. Poyser, 
he undoubtedly made her to match the man. I don’t know that her 
manners ever grated upon me before, — probably not, — but they grated 
upon me that day. 

I wheeled around upon hearing my name spoken, and faced the 
speaker, who was Miss Bellamy. She continued, — 

“ We were just saying, Mr. Barradale, that we think it might be a 
good thing to cultivate Mrs. Childs. We hear that these people have 
loads of money and that they’re going to entertain lavishly. We want 
to get hold of as many ball-rooms as we can for our dinner dances, and 
we know the fame of the Barradale ball-room. Do you think you could 
work the ball-room for us?” 

“ I am sure I could not,” I replied, smilingly and promptly, “ but 
I will present you, and no doubt you can arrange it for yourselves.” 
And accordingly I presented them. 

It amused me not a little to note the adroit flattery which each let 
drop, and which was a comedy in itself. I do not think that it was 
entirely lost upon Mrs. Childs; and I mentally tossed up a coin, 
wondering whether it would come down heads or tails, — or, in other 
words, whether it would be “ ball-room” or “ no ball-room” for these 
disinterested girls. 

When everybody had had tea and there seemed no possible excuse 


602 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


for lingering, there was a general move towards carriages. The crowd 
moved out upon the cramped porch, where it overflowed in a straggling 
group. While we stood there just before separating, a soft, sweet voice 
called me distinctly enough for everybody at hand to hear, “ Stephen.” 
It was Mrs. Romney’s. 

Once I should have thrilled from head to foot at the sound of my 
name so pronounced, and my voice would have been too unsteady to 
answer ; but now I only turned gravely towards her. She continued, 
plaintively, — 

“ Stephen, am I to be the only one who is not to meet your friends ?” 

There was a sweet, hurt, child-like look in her innocent, grave eyes. 
It seemed to me that every tongue had suddenly ceased its chatter. 
There was a perceptible pause. I said, quietly, while I stood with 
bared head, — 

“ Mr. Secretary, may I present Mrs. Romney?” 

The Secretary uncovered his gray head with old-fashioned gallantry 
and made a neatly-turned compliment. Then I pronounced Mrs. 
Romney’s name to Mrs. Childs, and we stood in light conversation for 
a few moments. Hargate finally motioned to the Secretary’s footman 
to bring up their carriage, and while they were preparing to drive 
away I sprang into my saddle, and Stephane and I turned our faces 
towards the town. 


CHAPTER V. 

TOLD BY STEPHEN, 

With the first Monday in December came the assembling of 
Congress. This event is taken very little into account by the general 
run of people in the District, and by the smart set not at all. I can 
count various people of my acquaintance who have never in all their 
lives had the impulse to cross the threshold of either the Senate or the 
House. It was therefore some little surprise to me to learn that Mrs. 
Childs desired to be present on the occasion, and it was intimated to 
me that I was expected to accompany her in order to point out the 
prominent men. To me there is scarcely any form of boredom equal 
to that of Congress. The overheated air, the uncomfortable gallery 
seats, the din and confusion of sounds, and the tedious and perpetual 
calling of yeas and nays, go to make up the most monotonous experi- 
ence to the initiated that can well be found. 

Of course, on the assembling of a new Congress all interest centres 
in the House, and it was accordingly there that I piloted Mrs. Childs. 
As we made our way thither rather slowly through the corridors it 
was almost a liberal education to see the crowd. The lobbies, com- 
mittee-rooms, corridors, and door-ways swarmed thickly with all sorts 
and conditions of men and women who wanted everything under the 
sun and were there to get it : men who wanted consulates in South 
America, men who wanted Indian Agencies, speculators who wanted 
mail-lettings for routes in the Territories, seedy men who were depend- 
ants of Senators and Congressmen, men who wanted to reduce the tax 
on whiskey, men who had schemes for the tariff, men who had just 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


603 


invented or discovered new projectiles, men on the make and men on 
the spend, unprotected women, widows who had never had husbands, 
women with antecedents and histories, women with careers, women 
with missions, and women who were nameless. 

There were crowds who bought the Blue-Book, crowds who bor- 
rowed it, and multitudes who devoured it eagerly. They were mostly 
the odds and ends of the human family, set afloat or run aground by 
the pressure of hard living and hard times. They, one and all, trooped 
through the endless corridors and flooded the galleries, there to gaze 
down unintelligently upon the chaos of the House below. 

When we finally reached the galleries, it was on the stroke of 
twelve, and we were ushered into the gallery set apart for diplomats. 
We had scarcely seated ourselves when the gavel fell, and the clerk of 
the House, there being no Speaker as yet, called the new Congress to 
order, then immediately the din began. 

I set about my task of pointing out the well-known faces of the 
members below. Who at a glance cannot tell the new member just 
entering upon his term? He is smiling, confident, suave, and im- 
portant. The old member, alas ! has often a weary look on his face : 
he knows that he must settle down to the old work of baffling unsolved 
problems, and must face new questions which threateningly confront 
him. He is not the brilliant meteor who flashes through a session or 
two leaving a trail of light behind, but he is the plodding member, 
who faithfully serves his constituents and his party, who never shirks 
the work of the House, who never shirks his vote, but, alas ! who is 
nine times out of ten not known outside the Congressional Directory 
and the Record. Ah, who would be a Congressman ? Not I. I was 
almost content for the moment with being a lackey to the rich woman 
at my side, who was plying me with questions continually : 

“What's that man doing over there with his hat on? What is 
the clerk mumbling? Will every one of 'em have to take the oath? 
You say that man is the sergeant-at-arms: what does he have to do? 
Carry the mace? What is the mace?" and so on. 

I found it almost as difficult to answer all these questions compre- 
hensively as it would have been to make her understand the points in 
a game of baseball ; and whoever has tried to make a woman under- 
stand baseball has been tested to the uttermost. 

At last Mrs. Childs became weary of the constant repetition and 
swearing in of the new members, and concluded to go home. I 
solaced myself later with a short, brisk ride into the country. Stephane 
was fresh, so was the December air ; and I got back to partake of club 
salt in a more contented spirit. That night after I had written for the 
Secretary for a couple of hours he suddenly interrupted the work with 
an unexpected proposition : 

“ Stephen, we're very lonely in this big house : I want you to come 
here and live with us permanently." 

“ Never, sir," I said, promptly and decisively. 

“Why not? We were talking of it only this morning. Mrs. 
Childs desires it, Sandy is full of the notion, and I — I want it very 
much." 


604 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


“ Never, sir,” was all I seemed able to repeat. I had visions of 
Mrs. Childs coming in and settling the thing before I could make it 
understood that I would not consent to any such arrangement. 

“ But, my dear boy, you have no home ; you have only the club, 
and you are invaluable to me. What is your objection ?” 

“ Simply, sir, that I have an utter disinclination for it. I cannot 
but feel gratified by the kind invitation, but I have been used to 
absolute freedom. It would be difficult to conform to new ways, and 
I think it would be a mistake all around.” 

The idea of living in the old house again under such a different 
rule would have been intolerable to me in itself, to say nothing of the 
parting with my last remnant of freedom and self-respect. The 
Secretary said, with a sigh, — 

“I am sorry; I had set my heart upon it. You will find it more 
difficult to refuse Mrs. Childs, Stephen,” 

“ I know I shall ; but it is impossible for me to accept the propo- 
sition.” 

Nothing more was said at the time, but in a day or two I had to 
meet the question with Mrs. Childs. It was couched in a very different 
way. She demanded of me that I should live under their roof, and 
one argument was, — 

“ You see, Mr. Barradale, it is a great nuisance to be sending to 
the club for you when you are not here. You never go away from 
the house for an hour but something is wanted, some note to answer, 
some subscription to be filled in, or some one to be interviewed, and I 
don’t see any other way but that you must live here permanently.” 

“ Never,” was all I could reply; and so stubborn was I that at 
last Mrs. Childs said, sharply, — 

“There must be some reason that does not meet the eye. Have 
you considered how much to your advantage financially it will 
be?” 

I flushed, and said, “ No, I have not, Mrs. Childs, and I can only 
repeat that it is out of the question. I would do almost anything for 
the Secretary and — you, but not that.” 

“ Well, I think you are very obstinate, Mr. Barradale.” And she 
set her mouth in the straight line I already knew so well. 

Shortly after this the smart world began to wake up, and informal 
visiting became the order of the day. It was now part of my duty, 
or I may say my whole duty, to make out visiting-lists and to keep 
Mrs. Childs’s visiting-book. Almost every name that I entered in the 
latter brought a twitch to my lips. Every set of cards that I put in 
envelopes and sent out to be delivered by the footman caused in me a 
feeling of exquisite derision. Then, too, I had the novel mission of 
finding out the dates of the different Cabinet dinners that were to take 
place ; for it was de rigueur that they should not conflict with each 
other, and above all it was of great importance not to conflict with the 
State dinners at the Executive Mansion. All this I finally arranged, 
and the dates for the dinners of Secretary and Mrs. Childs were duly 
set, beginning with the first one to the President : and other and far 
more brilliant schemes were talked over. As New Year’s day drew 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 605 

on, which begins with the White House and the Diplomatic breakfast, 
I felt that the curtain was about to be rung up. 

Towards the end of December, just before Christmas, a cablegram 
was received which threw the old Barradale mansion into quite an ex- 
citement. It announced that Constance Childs would sail for home 
immediately. It needed only a glance into the Secretary’s face to see 
what this news was to him. I did not look at Mrs. Childs; I did not 
wish to surprise in her any reluctance to welcome the daughter of the 
house ; and from the silence which for a moment prevailed, I knew that 
the news was unwelcome to her. Sandy sent up a shout of pleasure, 
and said, with boyish enthusiasm, — 

“ I say, governor, it’ll be jolly good fun for you and me to have 
Con home again. I’m going to New York to meet her.” 

“ Yes, you shall go, Sandy, my son ; we’ll go together.” 

The father aud son left the room, arm iu arm. Some days later, 
when the steamer was nearly due, the Secretary came home early one 
day, and came straight to the library where I was writing, and said, — 

“ Stephen, I find that the very day the steamer arrives will be 
Cabinet day: this new foreign complication has arisen which compels 
a full discussion, and the President has requested everybody to be 
present. I don’t see how I can possibly go to New York, and yet I 
don’t see how I can let Constance arrive and I not be there to meet her. 
What shall I do?” 

There was a worn, harassed look on his face. I had noticed for 
some time past that the cares of the department were weighing him 
down, and that he was having less and less leisure every day. 

“ Well, Mr. Secretary, could not Mrs. Childs go, accompanied by 
Sandy?” 

“ Yes,” he replied, doubtfully ; then he added, “ My idea was that 
you should go over with Sandy.” 

" Of course, sir, I will go, if you desire, and if you find that you 
cannot get away. When does the steamer get in ?” 

“ Day after to-morrow, and you must go over to-morrow night. I 
wouldn’t have had it happen this way for the world ; the poor child 
will think she is not welcome, for she has no one but me to look to.” 

After a little more discussion, the Secretary returned to the depart- 
ment. The next afternoon a message came to me from him that he 
was definitely sure he could not get away, and I was instructed to pro- 
ceed with Sandy immediately to New York. Accordingly, the boy, in 
high glee, and I not altogether unwilling, started off in the Congres- 
sional that afternoon. Sandy remarked as we sped along, — 

“ It would be a go if I shouldn’t know Con.” 

u How long is it since your sister went abroad ?” 

“ It is nearly three years, and I’ll be hanged if I knew that last 
photo she sent home. Of course you never saw Con in your life, and 
if I shouldn’t know her we’d be in a hole. I wish the governor had 
come.” 

“ Oh, we shall have no difficulty, I imagine : she at least will know 
you, Sandy.” 

“ Well, I’m not so sure of that,” replied the youngster, in an im- 


606 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


portant tone, as he put up his hand slyly to stroke an incipient down 
on his upper lip. 

The next day we stood on the pier and watched the incoming ship, 
and when she touched the dock we pressed forward to scan the faces 
leaning over the rail. I was looking for the fair girl I had seen in the 
photograph, and Sandy was staring with all his might for dimly- 
remembered features. Slowly the crowd surged over the gang-plank, 
and everybody was closely scrutinized, but there seemed to be nobody 
for us to claim. I was beginning to be seriously uneasy as in due time 
the last group came ashore, when a voice exclaimed suddenly from be- 
hind us, “ Why, Sandy !” 

A tall young woman, very nearly as tall as I, and not looking in 
the least like the photograph I so well remembered, was just detaching 
herself from a group of distinguished-looking people with whom un- 
doubtedly she had made the voyage. As we turned around quickly 
upon Sandy’s name being spoken, we faced her. There was a moment 
of uncertainty on Sandy’s part, then his arms were flung around her 
in a quick, boyish embrace, and he exclaimed, — 

“ Why, Conny, old girl, I didn’t know you ; and I’ve been staring 
at every woman under forty that came down the gang-plank. I don’t 
know how I came to miss you.” 

“ Where is papa? I don’t see him,” she said at once, glancing 
anxiously about. 

“ He couldn’t come over, Con. His chief went and had an old 
Cabinet meeting, so the governor couldn’t come. Barradale came in- 
stead.” 

There was a trembling about the girl’s mouth, and for a moment 
her eyes filled, as she stood gazing wistfully into Sandy’s face; then 
she asked, negatively, — 

“ I suppose of course mamma did not come to meet me either?” 

“ No, Con ; fact is, the old lady is in the midst of great doings 
and is no end of a swell just now ; she couldn’t leave, but she sent 
her love.” 

“ I think papa might have come ; I counted on seeing his face the 
first thing,” said the girl. And she turned her face away to hide the 
disappointed tears. I had been quite forgotten by Sandy, and stood 
aside, an onlooker ; but I remembered that there were custom-house 
officers to meet and luggage to be inspected, so I stepped forward and 
said, — 

“ Miss Childs, the Secretary gave me this letter to give to you as 
soon as you landed, and if you will give me your keys I will attend to 
the custom-house and to the transferring of your luggage.” 

Miss Childs looked at me, while I spoke, half doubtfully, half 
inquiringly ; then Sandy bethought himself to say, — 

“ Oh, I forgot, Conny ; this is Mr. Barradale. He is the right- 
hand man in the family nowadays, and my particular friend. He’s 
the governor’s private secretary, though the mater has rather swiped 
him of late.” 

Miss Childs gave me a troubled look and murmured something 
about having “ heard of Mr. Barradale” in acknowledgment of 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


607 


Sandy’s horribly slangy and patronizing introduction. She was very 
much overcome at the defection of her father, and she had not had a 
chance to read what I was sure was a tender greeting from him. 
She mechanically handed me out her keys, giving me a faint smile. 

I found a place for her away from the crowd, and, bidding Sandy 
stand guard over her, made my way to the custom office. There was 
no difficulty nor delay, fortunately; we were able inside of an hour or 
so to leave the pier, and were soon rattling over the cobble-stones on 
our way to the train. 

I had had considerable curiosity about this young woman, and 
while she and Sandy were deep in their eager conversation I was si- 
lently studying her. I was distinctly disappointed in her beauty, and 
she had, besides, a most pronounced affectation of speech. It was ultra 
precise, ultra refined, ultra cultivated. She seemed on a first view a 
perfect type of the jin-de-si£de young woman. She paid absolutely no 
attention to me beyond what conventional courtesy demanded, and I 
was left to observe her at my leisure. There was no doubt about it, I 
was disappointed in Constance Childs. 


CHAPTER VI. 

TOLD BY STEPHEN. 

My disappointment in Miss Childs’s beauty lasted just three days. 
At the end of that time I found myself seeing her with very different 
eyes. Whether it was that she underwent some subtle change upon 
reaching home, or whether her points were so fine that one could dis- 
cover them only slowly, I do not know. 

She had an unusually grave face for a young woman. Her hair 
was brown, rather nondescript in its color, neither warm nor yet dull 
in tint. She parted it plainly and drew it away softly on either side 
of her temples, leaving a forehead that was like the opaque whiteness 
of an egg-shell. She had not one regular feature. When examined 
separately, they were distinctly plain features, for the nose was rather 
too short and the mouth a trifle too wide ; but there was a wealth of 
rich vivid coloring upon her cheeks that was the living embodiment 
of fresh, young health. The eyes were large, dark, and expressive, 
and were marked with straight, delicate brows ; they met you with a 
steady level look which could change in an instant with any interest 
or emotion. When she bent them upon Sandy there was suppressed 
laughter in them at his audacious slang, or they glowed with interest 
in his games and sports. If they were turned towards Mrs. Childs 
there came into their depths a serious, contemplative look, which grad- 
ually became wistful. When they rested upon the Secretary, as they 
invariably did if he were present, they were soft and luminous and 
would gradually deepen with thoughtful comprehension as she fol- 
lowed his utterances, no matter how intricate or dense the subject; 
and if by chance her eyes dropped upon me — well, there was simply 
no expression at all ; not any more, that is, than when they rested 
upon the butler or the footman. 


608 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


There was something intensely vigorous and fresh about her, albeit 
she did speak with a certain affectation. It was a tone and inflection 
that one often hears nowadays among young women who are well 
educated, who have travelled overmuch, and who are perhaps conscious 
of it. It did not take Sandy long to catch up this little affectation of 
speech, which he imitated and aired upon all occasions. 

The mother and daughter seemed to be upon fairly good terms 
outwardly ; just how much of an armed neutrality it was I could only 
imagine. Sharp words and small stings were met with quiet manner, 
dignified speech, or else silence. Mrs. Childs, while in no way ever 
disposed to derogate any jot from her position, nevertheless put the 
daughter forward prominently, and from the time of Miss Childs’s first 
appearance in public there was a change of venue in the entire fashion- 
able world. The striking-looking, well-dressed, self-poised girl at- 
tracted wide-spread attention, and the wealth that was behind her 
brought young and old among the smart set to the Secretary’s doors. 
I was an interested and amused observer. 

I had begun already to hear little sneers dropped now and then 
upon my position in the Childs household, and I was ready to curse the 
day I had entered upon such a farce. I had caught one or two glances 
from Miss Childs as she noted my footing. There was surprise, then 
perplexity, and finally a look which, if I spoke the truth, I should 
call contempt. 

The first time that my position was clearly defined to the polite 
world at large was on the first Cabinet-day reception, when I stood 
near Mrs. Childs and made the presentations to her of the Toms, 
Dicks, and Harrys who thronged in through her doors all that after- 
noon. I had in years gone by half pitied the young army and navy 
officers whom I had seen detailed to make presentations to the wives 
of the War and Navy Secretaries, but I little dreamed it would be my 
fate to do likewise. 

As I stood there that afternoon and several people, both men and 
women, of my acquaintance chaffed me slyly upon my occupation, I 
caught a fleeting glance from Miss Childs as she heard these little 
gibes; but I went on presenting name after name with the utmost 
coolness and nonchalance No one should know what a fiery ordeal it 
was to me. Once Mrs. Childs whispered to me, in a surprised tone, — 

“ Where do all these odd-looking people come from ? Are they 
representative Washingtonians? Do they flock like this every Wed- 
nesday ?” 

“Yes,” I replied, and my eye followed a group of impossible 
women who had just come in to walk about the rooms, take stock of 
things, stare at the receiving party, and walk out again. Then I con- 
tinued, in explanation, — 

“Most of these people are strangers; some of them are Washing- 
tonians, but very few of the smart set are here. They do not do very 
much of this kind of visiting, though no doubt some of them will be 
here to-day. The diplomats will present themselves sooner or later.” 

Before the day was over, various of the diplomatic corps came in. 
Hargate was particularly anxious to meet Miss Childs, and after pres- 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


609 


sentation lingered until nearly the close of the afternoon. There was 
an attache of the French Embassy, Bouton by name, who also seemed 
to become enamoured at first sight. I never had a particle of liking 
for Bouton, and I hoped devoutly that he did not mean to attach him- 
self to the family. 

The ease with which Miss Childs met and talked to the various 
foreigners made me think that she felt more at home with them than 
with her compatriots. She always seemed to have a fluent word of 
German or Italian, and French of course. I almost expected to hear 
Chinese fall from her lips when the representative of China came in 
with a jade ring on his thumb and a big jewelled button in his cap ; 
but no, she addressed him in French, and, finding that fail, she con- 
versed with the interpreter, Dr. Ping, who conveyed her remarks to the 
impassive Celestial. The crowning event of the day was when Mrs. 
Bomney swept into the room, followed closely by Roger Macon. I 
had not known that he was in town, but as soon as I saw his determined, 
almost dogged face I knew there was sure to be some denouement sooner 
or later, and that he meant to see this affair to the bitter end. Mrs. 
Romney looked as young, fair, and innocent as any dove. Her first 
remark was loud enough for any one to hear who stood near, and her 
tone was as gracious and liquid as the purest spring water. 

“ I am so glad to see you, Stephen. It must be delightful to you 
to be in your grandfather’s house again. The old Barradale domain 
looks vastly rejuvenated.” 

As she made this remark she looked up innocently into my face, 
but she was careful at the same time to notice whether Miss Childs 
had heard her. Of course Miss Childs had, and was looking at us 
both questioningly. Mrs. Romney thereupon addressed herself to her, 
and said, opening her eyes to their widest extent, like a child, — 

“Why, Miss Childs, I thought everybody in Washington knew 
that this house belonged to the Barradales. Stephen was born here. 
It is such a strange coincidence, his being here again ; everybody is 
talking about it, and I supposed you knew it.” 

“ No, I did not know it, Mrs. Romney ; I have only been home a 
week or two, and have not become acquainted with nor interested in 
the personal histories of people as yet,” replied Miss Childs ; and she 
turned her eyes upon me swiftly with a look I do not like to recall, 
nor shall I define its meaning; but its effect was shrivelling, and I 
felt the blood leap in me. I answered her look in speech, and was 
rude in intention. I looked her squarely in the eyes, and said, 
smiling, — 

“ It has been one of Fortune’s turns of the wheel, Miss Childs : I 
am unfortunately the end of an old line, and you are happily the 
beginning of a new one, that is all.” 

I had not bettered my position one whit by my remark, but some- 
thing in this young woman’s attitude of disdain towards me and her 
worldliness stung me continually, and I was compelled by her manner 
to be constantly on the defensive, and to give more thought to her than 
I had given to any woman since my affair with Mrs. Romney. One 
afternoon a little later she entirely overstepped the bounds in showing 
Yol. LVL— 39 


610 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


her contempt for me. A party of us was assembled in the Secretary’s 
drawing-room, and some idiot was attempting to run me upon my 
nearness to Miss Childs and all the possibilities it opened up. Miss 
Childs of course heard it, and, as if to define my position clearly before 
every one, said, in a tone of curt command, — 

“ Mr. Barradale, I am waiting for tea. Go and find out what is 
the matter.” 

Her words cut like a lash, and I was angered by her rudeness ; 
but, without betraying any concern or even surprise, I touched an 
electric bell and summoned the footman. When he appeared I said, 
quietly, — 

“ Miss Childs has an order to give, I believe.” 

I turned away and speedily left the room amidst an intense silence, 
but I had caught a burning flush on her face as soon as I addressed 
the footman. I wondered if she were trying to enact the scene from 
the “ Poor Young Man,” and I had to smile as I recalled how exactly 
we had filled the bill. I avoided her as much as was possible thence- 
forth. 

From this time on the social ball rolled rapidly. The Childs be- 
came the most brilliant entertainers in all the town : dinners, receptions, 
musicales, followed in rapid succession. Miss Childs was already having 
a decided vogue, and there were various men in her train. Hargate 
was becoming assiduous in his attentions, always managing to be near 
her whenever she appeared. Also in her train, though least among 
them, 'was Bouton, whom the Secretary always called Mr. Button. 

Mrs. Romney had established an intimacy in the house which was 
quite noticeable, and of course in her wake Roger Macon was always 
to be found. Mrs. Childs was particularly taken with her, and nothing 
that went on in the Secretary’s house was complete unless Mrs. Romney 
was present. But Miss Childs did not share in this intimacy ; she dis- 
tinctly held aloof. It was to my mind an evidence of the pure, un- 
erring instinct in a young woman against — well, let us say the unknown. 
I was most uneasy at the foothold she had gained, but I could do 
nothing against it, for she sought me with the utmost friendly affection, 
and would say, in her soft voice, — 

“ Stephen is such an old friend.” 

Upon such a remark as this I have seen Macon set his teeth sharply 
and turn away. 

As the season wore on, I withdrew more and more from the whirl. 
I declined every invitation that I could with decency, and whenever I 
could ITailed to appear even at the Secretary’s. 

Dunng that whole season I never asked Miss Childs to dance. I 
often stood and watched her as she whirled around in Hargate’s arms, 
or in some other man’s, but never in mine. 

Sometimes I took refuge with the Secretary at the department, and 
would always feel a mental brace when he would give me some con- 
fidential matter to attend to which he did not care to have his new 
secretary see. I had not failed to notice that he seemed very much 
harassed these days, and I heard a rumor floating about town that 
there was a split in the Cabinet ; but, as such rumors are in daily 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


611 


circulation at the capital, I knew that it was not likely to be true ; he 
was probably only feeling the stress and strain of public life. I hoped 
devoutly that he would not break down under it, as some of his prede- 
cessors had done. 

Just about this time I made a painful discovery. I found that 
Sandy, whom no one had any time to look after, was getting into mis- 
chief. I had twice seen him out on the street when he was supposed 
to be in school, and when I had questioned him he had given very 
evasive answers. So I went quietly around to inquire into his record, 
to find to my consternation that for two or three weeks he had scarcely 
appeared at school. I felt that I must watch the youngster and set 
him right without worrying the Secretary. I gave him a severe scoring, 
and he promised better things. 

One night, when a large and brilliant theatre-party was in prog- 
ress, I was very much bored both by the play and by the people in the 
boxes : so I strolled out into the theatre, partly to get away from the 
incessant chatter and partly to get away from the sight of Hargate 
leaning over Miss Childs’ chair. Something in his attitude irritated 
me. As I left, Mrs. Childs said, — 

“ Don’t go home, Mr. Barradale ; I shall need you.” 

It seemed as though I could never get away from her claim upon 
me ; I felt that I had a ball and chain upon my leg. When I was out 
in the aisle I happened to glance up into the top gallery, and a pale, 
boyish face was staring back at me. It was surely Sandy, and with 
him were two or three tough-looking fellows, much his seniors. I 
went up into the gallery at once. Something in the set, white face 
had startled me ; but he must have seen me coming, for when I got 
there he was nowhere to be found. I was tempted to believe that I 
had been mistaken. I went down at once to the gallery entrance out- 
side, but he was not to be seen. I looked around for Mrs. Childs’ 
footman, who was standing on the curbstone waiting. I beckoned to 
him and asked if he had seen Sandy go away. 

“ Yes, Mr. Barradale, he has just gone from the gallery door, and, 
sir, I think he was in bad company. I heard him say something 
about a variety theatre.” 

“ Very well ; don’t mention this to any one else.” 

There was a cab at hand. I jumped in and drove to one of the 
variety theatres, but there was no Sandy. I rapidly ran over in my 
mind other resorts of a like order, and determined to visit every one, 
which I did, and unearthed the poor deluded boy in one of them. It 
needed only a glance at him to know that he was not himself, and it 
needed only a glance at the faces of the three or four rough-looking 
fellows in whose company he was to know that the boy was not re- 
sponsible for what had befallen him. I approached him and laid my 
hand on his shoulder. He shook me off. One of his companions, 
whom they called “ Budd,” said, — 

“ Come off that, I say.” 

I tightened my grasp on Sandy. He tried to get away, and 
said, — 

“ G’way from here ; lemme ’lone, Steve.” 


612 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


At the same moment the youngster straightened himself, squared 
off, and dealt me an uncertain blow full in the face. This was enough. 
Immediately the roughs sprang upon me; the biggest one, a burly 
fellow, struck at me with a knife. A demon of brute rage took pos- 
session of me, and I laid about me vigorously and to some purpose. 
For a few minutes there was a fierce scrimmage; blows were dealt 
right and left. There was a cry of u police” from some source, but 
the fight went on ; in the midst of which Sandy went to the floor, his 
unsteady head and still more unsteady legs being unable to sustain him 
longer in the scuffle. I don’t know how it would have ended, but I 
know we were all speedily taken into custody by the police; and when 
asked my name and residence I had a chance to explain. The Secre- 
tary’s name was given as bond, and, with my evening dress a total 
wreck, an ugly gash on the back of my hand, and Sandy in collapse, 
we were allowed to depart. We bundled into my waiting cab and 
started for home. On the way thither I had the proud satisfaction of 
knowing that I had laid out at least one of my assailants, though had 
I been Van Bibber my record would have been far more brilliant. 

My mind, however, was sorely taxed as to how I should get the 
youngster into his father’s house without any one knowing of it; for 
Mrs. Childs was entertaining the theatre- party at supper that night, 
and the whole gay crowd, no doubt, was having full swing. What 
should I do? How should I manage it? The boy was beginning to 
be very sick, and I might have to take some one into the secret. I 
naturally thought of the Secretary first, only to discard the thought at 
once. It might be possible to keep the unpleasant episode from him. 
Then I thought of his mother, but she seemed out of the question : 
she would only scold and rail at the boy, and do no end of harm, for 
our masculine make-up, even in a boy, no matter how much it sins or 
goes astray, must not be brought up roundly in bold reproof, but must 
be handled tenderly and the sinner held to the heart and protected ; at 
least this is the mode of treatment we masculines usually demand. 
So Mrs. Childs was out of the question. The only other person left, 
therefore, was Miss Childs. Yes, she would have to be the one ad- 
mitted to the secret ; and yet I could not bring myself to let her clear, 
pure eyes look upon this wretched, drunken boy. 

I ordered the cab to stop several doors from the Secretary’s house, 
and proceeded carefully to reconnoitre. Several carriages were standing 
about, and the house was brilliantly lighted. Evidently supper was 
in progress. I went up the steps and let myself in with my pass-key. 
A stealthy glance around the big hall told me that the guests must be 
at table, for there were gay voices and laughter coming from the dining- 
room. Just then a servant appeared. I beckoned to him. He came 
hastily, and, glancing at my disordered appearance, was about to speak. 
I made a warning gesture, and whispered, — 

“ How long will they be at supper?” 

“ They’re in the second course, sir.” 

“ Where’s the Secretary ?” 

“ He’s at supper, too, sir.” 

“ Very well, then : come with me.” 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 013 

I led the way out to the street, the man following in a bewildered 
fashion. I explained, hurriedly, — 

“Mr. Sandy has had an accident; help me to get him to bed 
quietly, and keep your mouth shut. Do you understand ?” 

“ Very good, sir.” 

I beckoned the cabman to come to the door, and the man-servant 
and I together lifted Sandy out and carried him with as little noise as 
possible into the house, up-stairs, and into his own somewhat remote 
room. Not one of the gay people in the dining-room below was 
the wiser. I locked the door and began to undress the boy and put 
him to bed. When all was done, I did not dare to leave him, for 
he was beginning to cry in a helpless, hysterical way. I only hoped 
that no one would come near the door. I knew that when he should 
finally fall asleep I could steal out in the quiet hours of the night 
unseen. 

About two o’clock a sudden lull fell upon the house, and I knew 
that the last guest must have gone. I heard the servants come blun- 
dering up-stairs ; I caught a muffled sound of voices in the corridor 
outside ; then all was still, and I breathed more freely. The boy had 
finally fallen into a heavy stupor. Just as I was about to leave him 
there came a light footstep down the corridor. It paused at the door, 
and my heart was in my mouth. There was a gentle tap, and yet an- 
other ; the handle of the door was turned, and a girlish voice called 
softly at the keyhole, — 

“ Sandy, it’s Conny ; let me in.” 

What on -earth should I do ? The door-handle was rattled more 
vigorously, and a frightened voice said, — 

“ Sandy, unlock your door ; you frighten me when you lock your- 
self in. Sandy ! Sandy !” 

She continued to call in a voice growing in fright. I did not know 
it was her custom to come to his door every night, no matter how late, 
to say good-night to him. I was afraid she would arouse the house. 
I turned the key and opened the door. She stood on the threshold, a 
lovely vision. She was in negligee, with loosened hair, flushed face, 
and shining eyes. 

When she saw me standing before her she became deadly white and 
grasped at the sides of the door for support. She exclaimed, in utter 
consternation, — 

“ Mr. Barradale !” 

“ Yes, it is I ; Sandy is sick, and I did not wish to disturb any 
one. Will you come in?” 

She glanced at my strangely disordered appearance, and caught 
instantly, with her quick eyes, the ugly, gaping cut on my hand and 
wrist. She turned towards the figure huddled upon the bed ; she noted 
the red face, the heavy breathing. There was a pause, while wonder, 
doubt, and fright appeared successively in her face. Then she stepped 
into the room, shut the door, and said,— 

“What has happened? Have you hurt Sandy, or has he hurt 
you ?” 

“Neither; Sandy has only hurt himself,” I replied, briefly. 


614 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


“You left the theatre to-night suddenly, just after the second act. 
I saw you go hurriedly away. What was the matter? Had it to do 
with Sandy ?” 

“Yes,” I replied, and I wondered how she knew that I had left 
the theatre ; she had been absorbed at the time with Hargate. I did 
not go on ; I did not want to tell this clear-eyed, womanly girl what 
ailed the wretched boy on the bed, and yet her keen instinct was 
guessing it. She went quickly to the bed. She listened to his heavy 
breathing, she leaned over and touched his red and swollen face, and 
caught the fumes of liquor. She turned suddenly, as though she had 
received a blow, and said, with horror and disgust in her face, — 

“ Sandy has been drinking. How did it happen ? Please tell me 
the whole truth.” 

I did tell her the whole truth ; that is, all that was necessary. I 
went back to the time that I had found him in the streets during 
school hours. I told of his promises to me, I told of finding him at 
the theatre that night, and of following him and bringing him home. 
After I had finished she said, — 

“ But you are badly cut : how did it happen ? There must have 
been some trouble. Where did you find Sandy?” 

I would not name the place, of course, where I had found the boy, 
though she would have been none the wiser if I had ; nor would I 
give any account of the cut on my hand, save in a vague way. All 
the time she regarded me steadily, with her eyes full of pain and dis- 
tress. She said, finally, — 

“ It is perfectly terrible. We must keep this from- papa, and we 
must save Sandy. I have been horribly selfish to neglect the boy, 
for I have a great deal of influence over him ; and I shall not let 
him out of my sight for long in the future. Will you help me, Mr. 
Barradale ?” 

She ended her speech piteously with this appeal to me. Then she 
broke down suddenly and buried her face in Sandy’s bedclothes. I 
seemed to be utterly tongue-tied. I had no word to offer of consola- 
tion or sympathy. I could not believe that this sobbing girl was the 
worldly Constance Childs I had known during the past eight weeks, 
and I was bewildered. She started up in a few minutes with her face 
stained with crying and all her beauty convulsed with grief. She 
dashed the tears from her eyes, pushed back her hair, and said, tremu- 
lously, — 

“ But I am forgetting you. Your hand needs dressing ; you look 
wretchedly ill. You will let me make it more comfortable for you, 
won’t you ?” 

I wanted to ask her if it were true that she could be so divinely 
considerate, but of course I did not. I would not confess how painful 
my hand was becoming. She got up energetically and moved to the 
door, saying, — 

“ Wait here for me, please. I’ll be back in a minute.” 

She vanished into the dark corridor, and it was some little time 
before she came back. I strained my ears for the sound of her return- 
ing step. When she reappeared she brought a jug of hot water, some 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


615 


bits of linen, and a roll of adhesive plaster. She proceeded to make 
ready by saying, in a business-like tone, — 

“ I have attended emergency classes, and I think I can manage 
this cut.” 

She poured the water into the basin and brought it over to the 
bureau where the light was bright. She took my ugly, bruised, cut, 
and swollen hand in her soft, firm fingers and examined it carefully 
and critically, saying, — 

“ It is a deep cut. I’m not sure but a few stitches would be the 
best thing ; but I will try the plaster.” 

She bathed it carefully. It was a new experience to me, and I 
scarcely dared to breathe. When it was thoroughly cleansed, she 
gently drew the edges of the cut together and laid across them strips 
of the plaster. Then she bound up the whole hand in soft bits of 
linen. I spoke no word during the whole process. I watched her 
face, so earnest in its work. There was an expression of womanly 
concern upon it which, for the time at least, was all for me, and as I 
stood rigidly quiet I was making the most of my brief reign. She 
looked up at me suddenly, and for a moment seemed a trifle nervous. 
She said, with less assurance in her tone, — 

“ I wish you would tell me how you came by this wound : you are 
ghastly pale. Are you suffering so much ?” 

“ I am not suffering at all, thank you,” I managed to say. I 
did not know where my wits were, what had come over me, or what 
had happened to me. There was silence again between us. When 
the bandages were arranged to her complete satisfaction, she said to 
me,' — 

“ I shall stay and watch Sandy to-night. I will go down-stairs 
and let you out of the house. You must have something to drink 
before you go : your pallor is intense.” 

We proceeded softly down-stairs. At the foot she turned to the 
dining-room, and, opening the buffet, gave me a glass of brandy. 
Afterwards at the front door we paused and stood silent in the dim 
light of the chandelier. I did not take my eyes from her face. I do 
not know what I was thinking or looking, but she said hurriedly as 
she put out her hand to me, — 

“ I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you for what you have 
done for Sandy. Good-night.” 

I found myself standing out in the street, with the door shut 
behind me and the city bells just ringing out the hour of three. 


CHAPTER VII, 

TOLD BY CONSTANCE. 

I have been trying ever since I came home from Europe to ac- 
custom myself to the new order of things, to the new conditions which 
surround us here in Washington. It is all so different from the old 
life out in our native region, where the prairies surrounded our little 


616 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


town, where things were on a free and easy footing, where mamma ruled 
the town and everybody in it. It is so different from the two or three 
years of Europe, where I worked, studied, dreamed, and lived the life 
that fills my imagination and meets my ideal of existence. I have 
breathed this new atmosphere with every faculty alert, every nerve 
tense to catch the impressions and phases of the unaccustomed life. 
The first things which struck me were the changes in papa and mamma, 
and of course in Sandy. Papa has grown older, much older. He looks 
weary ; there is a certain tension or strain in his eyes that is entirely new 
to me. I cannot help watching him anxiously and listening for every 
word. I am not satisfied with his appearance. And mamma, — well, the 
most surprising change is in mamma. She has always been a difficult 
person in a way, but perhaps she is less so as she grows older, or else 
it is that this position in the Cabinet has so satisfied her ambition that 
it fills all the demands of her nature. I cannot get used to seeing her 
a fashionable woman, a woman of the world. It is astonishing where 
she learned it or how she acquired it. She must always have pos- 
sessed more adaptability than we knew of. She holds her position 
well, and I am less uneasy about her than I had expected to be. 

My first view of her at a public function was when I saw her stand- 
ing in the position that was hers by right in the receiving party at the 
White House. I watched her nervously. I was just behind the line 
myself, a stranger in a sea of strange faces. Papa had drifted away 
from me, and I watched the people, a deeply interested spectator in 
this mimic American court of ours. I pitied the tired, perfunctory 
smile of the President. I liked the glittering uniform of the cavalry 
officer who stood in front of him to repeat any name that he had not 
caught. I liked the pleasant, easy manner of the women of the re- 
ceiving party. I thought, in contrast, of the day of the Drawing-Room 
when I had been presented to her Majesty. Of course the present 
scene could not compare to it in pomp, stateliness, and magnificence, 
but, oh ! how infinitely I preferred this unpretending party which 
stood against a line of sofas that had their upholstered backs turned 
to form a bulwark behind them ! I recalled the saying of Webster 
in one of his speeches, or perhaps it wasn’t Webster, but some other 
one of our patriotic statesmen who said, “ I was born an American, I 
will live an American, I will die an American.” And I felt as I 
looked upon this plain democratic scene that I was glad I was an 
American, in spite of the reminders in the shape of the gorgeous court 
dress of the diplomats that there were countries older in civilization 
and culture than ours. I was glad, finally, to see coming through the 
crowd at least one face I had seen before. It was this Mr. Barradale, 
who seems in some very mysterious way to belong to our family and 
our household, though his position is not quite clear to me as yet. 
Sandy says that he is papa’s private secretary; mamma claims that he 
is hers, and that she could not get along without him. He met me in 
New York upon landing, and I have seen him at every turn and upon 
all occasions since. 

He is a good-looking man, tall, and at first glance gives the im- 
pression of being slight in build, but a nearer inspection dispels this, 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


617 


for he is muscular and well proportioned. Both his physique and his 
face would call for strength of character. His clearly-cut features 
perhaps appear too impassive, too indifferent, to be handsome, but the 
firmness of his chin, the mobility of his mouth, and the cool, thoughtful 
look in the eyes belie the idea of impassiveness or indifference. He 
has no beard nor moustache under which he can hide emotions or de- 
fects of character, and in talking to him one has an unimpeded scrutiny, 
though perhaps one won’t read much in his face, as all is so carefully 
masked. Taking this Mr. Barradale all together, I should call him 
distinguished-looking, but just what he is doing in our household I 
do not fathom, in spite of Sandy’s and mamma’s explanations, which, 
after all, do not explain anything. 

I was most willing to be delivered from my tiresome position 
behind the line of sofas to be piloted by him through the crowd and 
to have people pointed out to me. Everybody we met seemed to be a 
general, a justice of the Supreme Bench, an Ambassador, or a Cabinet 
officer, and celebrities were apparently the order of the day. In the 
course of our tour various people were presented to me. Mr. Barra- 
dale seemed to know everybody. He presented a lovely woman, a 
Mrs. Romney. I don’t know when I have seen such a face ; I was 
reminded at once of Knauss’s Madonna. Her manner had much 
repose and gravity, which was an agreeable contrast to the manner of 
other women near us. Mrs. Romney had a man with her, Mr. Macon. 
I could not exactly make him out, or his sulky attentions to her. We 
seemed speedily to have a crowd around us, and by the time papa had 
joined us, bringing with him several distinguished elderly men, we 
were holding a miniature court at one end of the vast room. I sup- 
pose Mrs. Romney was the attraction mainly, though perhaps I had 
some right to a part of it. I could not help noticing that there was 
some curiosity about me, but I was glad when it was all over, and also 
the Diplomatic breakfast afterwards at one of the Secretaries’ houses, 
and we were permitted to go home and begin our own reception, which 
took up all the afternoon, with streams of men pouring in through the 
drawing-room doors, none of whom did we know, save one or two here 
and there. 

There were whole delegations who came in in platoons and were 
marshalled past mamma and me with little pretence of presenting their 
names. One man who came in simply shouted his name to each of us 
in turn, “ Kelly of Illinois,” “ Kelly of Illinois.” I shall never forget 
“ Kelly of Illinois.” I was heartily glad when New Year’s day was 
over. I felt that I had had a new experience, and I was told that now 
the society ball would be set whirling till Lent. 

I soon found out that mamma was ambitious to be the social leader 
in the Cabinet, and that she had a series of brilliant dinners, musicales, 
dances, and the like, mapped out. I was amused to find that she 
meant to put me forward as a trump card in her social game, and the 
little jealousies and scenes that used to mar our life together in the 
old days out in our prairie home were not to be renewed. I was 
willing and eager to enter into the fray. There was something in the 
pace set that filled my blood with tingling pleasure and excitement. 


618 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


It was a new experience to me. I had been puzzled to know how we 
had been domiciled in so spacious, so chic an old house. I knew so 
well mamma's taste for the ornate that I had expected on my arrival 
home to find poor papa’s eyes and nerves strained by over-decorated, 
over-upholstered, overdone surroundings, instead of which I found a 
stately mansion-house, I do not know how else to call it. It suggested 
an old family, old retainers and heirlooms, things that were as far re- 
moved from us as it was possible to be ; for papa made himself, his 
money, and his name, and I am proud of it ; but I enjoyed the quaint 
old Chippendale, the queer old china, and the Venetian mirrors. I 
liked the dark, sombre carvings, the dark, polished floors, and re- 
sented the electric bells and the modern chairs mamma had intro- 
duced. 

Upon our first Cabinet-day reception a sudden light was thrown 
upon our stately home. I had taken it for granted when Mr. Barra- 
dale made the introductions on New Year’s day that it was something 
unusual, or perhaps usual to such a day and occasion, for I remembered 
the brilliant-looking officer who had performed a similar service at the 
White House. But as our reception began and this Mr. Barradale 
stood beside mamma and did the same thing over again, I was much 
perplexed by it. I had remonstrated with mamma all the week pre- 
vious because she had let him write our acceptances and our invitations, 
and because he seemed to be doing things not in the sphere of a man ; 
but she replied, — 

“That’s what Mr. Barradale is here for: so don’t be an idiot, 
Constance.” 

Of course I said no more, but I wondered what manner of man 
he was to submit to such an arrangement, such an ignominious position. 
I felt positively mortified for him that he should stand it for a day. 
Think of a man, a gentleman evidently by birth and breeding, serving 
as lackey in a household like ours ! I could not prevent my eyes from 
wandering towards him, trying to fathom his reasons. I was amazed, 
perplexed, and finally felt a contempt for him. The indications of 
strength of character were mere indications, nothing more. He evi- 
dently had not a scrap of manhood in him. When our first Wednes- 
day reception took place and he nonchalantly presented name after 
name, even parrying sly thrusts from some of our visitors, I could not 
prevent a curl of the lip, which I am afraid he saw. But finally Mrs. 
Romney came in, — Mrs. Romney with the Madonna face. In her train 
was the dour Mr. Macon, who would be a handsome man if he weren’t 
so stern and severe looking. Mrs. Romney had not been in the room 
three minutes when she called Mr. Barradale “ Stephen” and remarked 
that it must be delightful for him to be in his grandfather’s house 
again ; and when I could not prevent a look of astonishment, she went 
on in a sweet voice to explain, — 

“ Stephen was born in this house : didn’t you know it ? * It was 
his grandfather’s house.” 

I turned my eyes upon him, and I don’t know what expression 
there was in my face, but it was unflattering to a degree. I made 
some remark to the effect that I had not been home long enough to be 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


619 


interested in people’s private histories. I suppose the tone of my voice 
was no more flattering than my look had been, for he flushed, and 
said, cuttingly, — 

“ It is one of the turns of Fortune’s wheel. I am unfortunately 
the end of an old line, you are happily the beginning of a new one, 
Miss Childs.” 

I am not sure that I deserved so rude a speech, and I did not again 
look towards him. From that time I certainly felt a distinct convic- 
tion that Mrs. Romney’s Madonna face belied her, and I mentally 
made a note of her ; but mamma seems to be fascinated by her com- 
pletely. 

The rest of that afternoon went swiftly. I liked an Englishman I 
met, Mr. Hargate, he seemed so genuine, so strong, so much of a man ; 
but I did not like a Frenchman, Mr. Bouton. He presumed to say 
something that was slightly risqu6 , and when I was impenetrably blank 
he apologized by saying that his English was so defective that some- 
times he confused the “ idiom.” 

All that afternoon I was trying to fathom Mr. Barradale and his 
anomalous servitude. What had induced him to let papa and mamma 
actually rent his grandfather’s house? Had he no pride, no sensi- 
bilities whatever? Did papa and mamma not know of it? Evi- 
dently not, or I should have heard of it. I determined that I would 
keep Mrs. Romney’s indiscreet disclosure to myself, for when she had 
apparently so innocently mentioned the fact I had seen a look pass 
over Mr. Barradale’s face that belied his seeming nonchalant indiffer- 
ence. I was glad to know that he had some spark of pride that could 

be kindled But pshaw ! I was concerning myself ridiculously 

about him and his position towards us. 

After this first Wednesday reception of ours, things came with a 
rush. I began to realize that I was becoming of importance in the 
social world. Of course I could not but be flattered by it and enjoy 
it, but I was not blinded by it, for the fact remained that behind me 
were papa’s wealth and position, and, although I had never been much 
in the world, I was sufficiently keen of vision to know to what to 
attribute the greater part of my popularity. Papa, whenever he had 
time to note our doings, was proud of my success, and I read in his 
dear, strong, worried face the pleasure he felt in me. Mamma was 
almost tender to me, and there was no jar between us save now and 
then when she took me to task for being rude to Mr. Barradale or 
when she chided me for not going to Mrs. Romney’s house. As for 
Sandy, he was my most ardent admirer, and when I appeared iu some 
of my French gowns, for which I soon learned the polite term of 
description among the girls of the smart set to be “ swagger,” Sandy 
would break into enthusiastic and characteristic slang. 

I went to balls, germans, suppers, theatre-parties, teas, — in fact, to 
everything that the fashionable world gave. I could not help noticing 
as the season advanced that Mr. Barradale appeared less and less at the 
germans and balls. I don’t remember ever to have seen him dance ; I 
concluded that he could not : he certainly never asked me. Mr. Har- 
gate had now become quite openly devoted, and ditto Mr. Bouton, — as 


620 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


much as I would permit him, that is ; and I also had the unique dis- 
tinction of enrolling among my adorers Dr. Ping, of the Chinese 
Legation. I shall never forget the first time he offered me his arm to 
take me to supper. I looked at the great, flowing, fluffy, downy- 
looking sleeve he presented, and timidly made an effort to take the 
proffered arm. I never found it, though I suppose he had one some- 
where, but I groped around in the padded sleeve and finally pinched 
up in desperation a fold of wadded silk. But Dr. Ping was charming 
to me. He taught me how to make genuine tea, — an unknown art, 
he says, in America. He sent me yards of beautiful, gauzy, gilded 
stuffs. He brought me queer sweetmeats, in flat wooden boxes, which 
he offered in speech that would make a poet sigh with envy. 

I now saw little of Mr. Barradale, for I never descended till mid- 
day to breakfast, and after that there was always something upon the 
cards, and later in the afternoon a round of visits, teas, and receptions. 
But one afternoon, I remember only too well, a few people had dropped 
in, and Mr. Barradale happened to stroll into the drawing-room, where, 
we were all waiting for tea to be served. There was something in his 
quietly indifferent way of acknowledging my salutation that irritated 
me. I don’t know whether the late hours I had been keeping and 
the inadequate rest for a week or more had told upon my nerves and 
temper, but when some one in the party chaffed him about having the 
“ inside track” in our family, the insinuation, which he took super- 
ciliously, aggravated me and was not to be borne. Without stopping 
to think how it was going to sound, I said, — 

“ Mr. Barradale, I am waiting for tea : go and see what is the 
matter.” 

The words had no sooner passed my lips than I realized that I had 
made a mistake. There was a look of astonishment on every face, and 
I could have bitten my tongue out, especially when, without any haste, 
or without betraying any feeling, he calmly touched the bell and when 
the footman appeared said to him that I had an order to give, he 
believed. His tone and manner were superbly well-bred. He was 
master of the situation, and in a short time, with a polite bow to all 
of us, he left the room. 

There was a constrained pause, then everybody began to talk at 
once to cover the awkward occurrence. The afternoon was utterly 
spoiled to me. I had prided myself upon an equable temperament 
always. I had often stood mamma’s little gibes and tempers without 
a ruffle of my own nature. Papa had once told me that I was remark- 
ably well poised and kept my quick tongue in admirable check. Sandy 
thought me an angel. And yet here in my own house and before a 
roomful of strangers I had shown an arrogance, an intolerance, that I 
have blushed for ever since. The worst of it was that I could not or 
would not apologize, for I was upon no terms with Mr. Barradale. 
He avoided me most openly, and you may be sure that I did not seek 
to change his attitude. 

One thing had crossed my mind most forcibly, that in this life of 
gayety that mamma and I were leading there was no room, no time, 
for papa and Sandy. It seemed to me that papa was daily becoming 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


621 


more silent and lonely and Sandy more uncouth aud slangy. I meant 
each day to be more with them both, but engagements crowded my 
good resolves out of my mind. It seemed to me that every aim, 
every ambition, I once had had become utterly dwarfed or had disap- 
peared altogether. I may as well own that to a certain extent I was 
carried away by my evident success. I enjoyed to the full papa’s 
position and the very evident power his wealth gave us. This may 
have been ignoble, but it was most natural. I had hitherto seen little 
of gay life, and I enjoyed the vogue I was having. I was consider- 
ably disappointed to learn that I was not popular with the girls 
belonging to the smart set, and I do not know whose was the fault, 
but I was annoyed when I heard that I was accused of caring only 
for men’s society. I always felt sure that this remark came from Miss 
Bellamy : it sounded like her. I was surprised to find out gradually 
that Mr. Barradale held a most unassailable position in the social 
world, and there was an evident respect felt for his old name and for 
the importance of his family in the past. I wondered often, however, 
why Mrs. Romney called him “Stephen,” and she pronounced the 
name in a purring way that was rather irritating to hear; at least it 
was irritating to Mr. Macon. 

I don’t know how long I should have been swept along in the 
whirl if I had not had a sudden shock. Just about ten days before 
Lent mamma was giving a large theatre-party which was to be enter- 
tained afterwards at supper. For a wonder, Mr. Barradale did not 
excuse himself, though his bored face and manner did not add much 
to the affair, I must say, and I was considerably puzzled to see him 
leave the theatre rather hurriedly before the performance was half over, 
although I heard mamma very pointedly ask him to remain. I 
wondered if he would come back, but he did not. Mr. Hargate that 
night was rather empresse in his attentions ; he hadn’t a particle of 
lightness of speech or manner, and his devotion took the form of a 
stolid British stare. Towards the end of the evening, especially at 
supper, I grew tired and silent, and I was glad when the last guest 
had gone. After I had exchanged my evening gown for a negligee I 
ran down to Sandy’s door, when the lights were out and the house was 
still, to see if he was all right. I have made a point of this ever since 
I came home from Europe, for the boy is left so much alone, and he 
often keeps himself awake to wait for my good-night. What was my 
surprise to find his door locked and my tap disregarded! Yet there 
was a streak of light under his door. I thought I heard some one 
stirring within, so I persisted in tapping and calling his name softly. 
I was just beginning to be genuinely frightened, when the door was 
suddenly unlocked and opened. 

I was almost paralyzed with surprise to see Mr. Barradale standing 
in the door-way. It was not only surprise at seeing him, but surprise 
at his extraordinary appearance ; for at all times he has been the most 
fastidiously and fashionably dressed man in town, but now he was 
dishevelled, he was pale, he was everything that was unusual. I did 
not know what to do, whether to retreat or to enter. He explained 
that Sandy was ill, and that he had not wished to let anybody know 


622 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


of it. This seemed so strange that I stepped into the room and shut 
the door behind me. I looked from him to the bed where Sandy was 
huddled, and of course I knew that something very much out of the 
ordinary had happened ; and then I caught a glimpse of Mr. Barra- 
dale’s hand, which had a long, ugly gash across it from which the 
blood trickled. He had evidently tried to wrap a handkerchief around 
it without success. I asked him to tell me what had happened, but he 
seemed very reluctant to speak, and stood leaning against the bureau 
as stiff as a post and with his face as impassive and expressionless as 
a mask. I went to the bed, leaned over, and touched Sandy. In an 
instant I knew what had happened. The boy had been drinking; he 
had been in bad company, he had drifted into evil ways while mamma 
and I had been selfishly pursuing our own pleasures. I never felt so 
condemned in my life as I stood there at his bedside. I broke down 
completely and buried my face in the bedclothes. I don’t know what 
Mr. Barradale thought of me. I did not care at that moment ; I felt 
my antagonism, my contempt for him fall suddenly away from me. 
He had been Sandy’s friend when not one of us had cared to know 
where the boy was or what he 'was doing. I remember I was in- 
coherent, and I think I begged him to help me save Sandy and to 
keep the whole thing from papa’s ears. Then I implored him to tell 
the whole story, which he did in a curt, bald way, but I gathered some 
idea of what had happened. 

Suddenly I bethought me that his hand ought to be dressed and 
bathed. I could get no clear idea of how he had received such a cut, 
but it must be attended to. I went for some hot water, plaster, and 
bandages. Luckily, I had attended emergency classes and knew what 
to do, although his stiff, unapproachable manner was rather dishearten- 
ing. He was absolutely indifferent as to whether I did anything for 
him or not. He was rigid, and his face was ghastly. I asked him if 
he were suffering. He drew in his breath sharply in a way that belied 
his reply, and said, “No.” There was something in his eyes that 
made me suspect he was playing the stoic. 

I went down-stairs and made him drink some brandy before he 
went away, and when we got to the front door there was an awkward 
pause and silence. He seemed to be regarding me fixedly in a most 
disconcerting way. I was so stupid I could only say a few lame words 
of thanks for what he had done for Sandy. 

When he was out of the house I ran back up-stairs. I was tingling 
with excitement. I never had felt so alert, so full of energy, in my 
life. Here was this poor boy to be watched and to be kept from evil, 
and I had made a discovery. Mr. Stephen Barradale was not the man 
I had conceived him to be, and somehow this discovery was exhilarating. 
As I sat by Sandy all through the night, I made various resolves : I 
would not lose sight of Sandy again, I would give up my engagements 
and devote myself to papa and him, and, if it were not too late, I 
would apologize to Mr. Barradale. I had been heartless, arrogant, 
and worldly ; I would be so no more. 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


623 


CHAPTER VIII. 

TOLD BY STEPHEN. 

I AM pretty sure I did not sleep much the night that Constance 
bound up my hand. I tossed about restlessly, now seeing her earnest 
eyes looking at me, or feeling the touch of her light fingers, now going 
over again my encounter with Sandy’s tough companions, until I 
scarcely knew myself, so disordered and feverish were my fancies. In 
the morning things had taken a calmer aspect. The fisticuff of the 
night before had sunk to insignificance, and, alas I Constance’s eyes 
were less sweet in my memory and the touch of her fingers less thrill- 
ing ; for I knew it had been only a brief and pleasant kindness on her 
part, no more, and that I should find her when I met her that day 
again wrapped in her cold dignity. 

I presented myself at the Secretary’s just at mid-day, and found 
them at breakfast, all but the Secretary. Sandy was at the table, pale 
and heavy-eyed, and scarcely held up his head. His sister sat near 
him, and Mrs. Childs was complaining in her high-pitched voice about 
Sandy’s ill appearance and enforced absence from school, about my 
defection of the night before, about the weather : in fact, nothing was 
right. When I entered the room each of them looked up, but I saw 
only Constance ; I looked only for her greeting. She gave me a frank, 
sweet look and held out her hand, and in my quick response I acci- 
dentally brought my bandaged hand into full view. Instantly Sandy’s 
head dropped almost down to his plate, while Mrs. Childs said, — 

“What have you done to your hand? and what became of you 
last night? I particularly asked you not to go away. We had a 
horrid time getting home.” 

I made some lame excuse and apology, and inquired what the pro- 
gramme was to be for the next twenty-four hours. Mrs. Childs 
answered, with a sigh of discontent, — 

“ Oh, dear me, Constance and I have got to go to that reading at 
the Bellamys’ this afternoon ; then the Secretary and I dine at Senator 
Jessop’s, and afterwards we’ll pick up Constance and look in for a few 
minutes at the dance at the Brazilian Legation ; and after that Con- 
stance will go on to the german. You’re going to the dance and the 
german, aren’t you ?” 

“ No, I was not intending to go to either, but of course I will 
accompany you and see you safely to the end of the evening.” 

Constance here broke in, and said, gayly, — 

“I have an entirely different programme, and I want you to help 
me carry it out, Mr. Barradale. I mean to take a day off. I’m going 
out this afternoon in the cart, for a long winter drive in the country. 
Sandy is to go with me, then he and 1 will have a quiet dinner here 
at home, with you, Mr. Barradale, for company, and afterwards we 
three will have the nicest sort of an evening together.” 

Her worldliness had dropped away from her like a shell. She 
looked at me appealingly. She was pleading for Sandy, but she 
seemed also pleading for herself and for her past rudeness to me. I 
gave back an answering look, and lost no time about it. Sandy raised 


624 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


his head for the first time, looking piteously at his sister, while Mrs. 
Childs said, in consternation, — 

“Why, Constance, you cannot possibly cut these engagements. 
You are to dance the german with Mr. Hargate : his flowers are 
already here.” 

“ Yes, I know, but I can manage it, and without offence, too. I 
shall write a note to Mr. Hargate and tell him my reasons. I have 
made up my mind that I shall give up most of my engagements 
between now and Lent. I am going to spend more time with papa 
and Sandy : we have neglected them shamefully lately.” 

“ Now, Constance, don’t be an idiot and do any such absurd thing. 
Papa and Sandy are doing very well, and yoiuhave no reason for any 
such proceeding.” 

“ Yes, I have, mamma. I am going into partnership with Sandy.” 
And she laid her hand affectionately on the bowed, shamefaced boy, 
who finally lifted his head and looked at her gratefully ; then he looked 
at me, and his eyes plainly asked for pardon and for silence. Con- 
stance seconded his appeal. We three gazed at each other understand- 
ing^, and I for one was strangely elated. Mrs. Childs soon left the 
room, muttering something about “ headstrong girl.” As soon as she 
was gone, Constance said, — 

“ Mr. Barradale, Sandy has made a clean breast of it to me. He 
has told me that in trying to rescue him last night you were cut by 
one of the other men, and that he himself struck you. He is terribly 
asliamed and sorry : aren’t you, Sandy ?” 

“Oh, Stephen, I’m so glad you came last night. I never saw any 
one so quick as you were when you knocked out Tom Budd. I didn’t 
see the rest of the fight, but, by golly, it must have been worth seeing, 
and I’m awfully ashamed and grateful to you. Will you shake hands ? 
and will you go with Conny and me when we go for our drive ?” 

Of course I assented to this. When Sandy had gone out of the 
room, I was wondering how Constance meant to excuse herself from 
the german without giving offence to Hargate. She seemed to be 
thinking perplexedly over something, and said, finally, — 

“ Mr. Barradale, I shall send for Mr. Hargate and tell him the 
truth. I am going to tell him that I dare not leave. Sandy alone for a 
moment for the next few days until he is safely over this outburst. I 
think he will release me without taking offence. I do not know how 
else to do it, truthfully.” 

She evidently wanted my opinion, and had I dared to give it I 
should have surprised her considerably. I knew enough of Hargate’s 
honest English nature to know that, if this particular girl were to tell 
him that in order to save a wayward young brother she must forego 
her brilliant engagements in the gay world and bury herself, it would 
appeal to him as nothing else could, and would seal his fate. But she 
evidently had no idea what a strong card she was about to play. She 
was bent only on saving the graceless Sandy from further scrapes. 
She despatched a note to Hargate asking him to come in for five 
o’clock tea that afternoon. 

Meantime we set out on our winter drive, Sandy and Constance 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


625 


in her high cart, I beside them upon St6phane. I had no idea that a 
winter day could be so glorified. We wound around among the bare, 
hilly country roads, stopping at the club-house to see the fox-hounds ; 
then afterwards on our way home we came through the Zoo to see the 
bears fed. When we reached the Secretary’s house again it was late in 
the afternoon, and Hargate was waiting. I turned to mount and ride 
on, but Constance called, gayly, — 

“ Be sure to come back for tea, Mr. Barradale.” 

I rode to the stable and put up Stephane, then returned at once. 
It was evident to me when I entered the drawing-room that Constance, 
who had her back to me, had already made her explanation, and that 
it had had precisely the effect I had anticipated. If Hargate had not 
been in love before, he was now. He was begging in an undertone to 
be allowed to come and make one of the home party that evening. 
He did not care for the german, for it was no longer of any moment to 
him. The look in his eyes and the earnest tone of his lowered voice 
were enough. I went quietly away without having been seen. There 
was zero temperature in my heart, and every drop of blood in my 
veins had turned to frost. 

Hargate belonged to an old family. He was well up in the diplo- 
matic corps ; he would some day be Ambassador, perhaps even succeed 
to a title. Besides, he was a good fellow. What more could a woman 
want ? while I had not one single thing on God’s earth to offer to any 
woman. I was by birth a gentleman, but I was by occupation a lackey. 
I had wasted every opportunity in the past, and I was absolutely 
without prospects for the future. I picked up my hat, pulled it down 
over my eyes, rammed my hands into my pockets, and plunged into 
the darkening night. I have hardly any recollection of where I went, 
or how far I walked. I was filled with wild, impotent rage and bitter- 
ness. When I had walked myself into a controllable state of mind, 
I went to the club, dressed, and proceeded to the Secretary’s, where I 
found dinner just announced, with Sandy and his sister awaiting me. 
It seemed as if I could not rouse myself to respond to their simple 
gayety, although I made heroic efforts to shake up my dull spirits. 
When we went to the deserted library afterwards, where an open fire 
was burning, Constance approached me immediately and said, frankly, — 

“Mr. Barradale, I am afraid your injury is more serious than you 
have admitted : you look downright ill. Let me look at the bandages ; 
they may need loosening.” 

I lifted my hand a moment. She would have taken it to examine 
the bandages, but I quickly imprisoned her outstretched fingers in mine 
and bent my lips to them. I barely had time to kiss them with pas- 
sionate impulse before they were hurriedly pulled away and her eyes 
looked into mine. They were startled and half resentful. I imme- 
diately rallied myself, and replied to her look with as light a tone as I 
could command, — 

“ Fealty to the skilful nurse and the good sister. — Come here, Sandy, 
you rascal, and do likewise.” 

“Come and do what?” asked the boy, as he lounged about the 
library keeping one eye upon us. 

Vol. LVI.— 40 


626 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS . 


“ Come and thank your sister for what she did for us last night.” 

“ Pooh ! I’ve done more than kiss her hand ; there’s no fun in 
kissing a hand, that I can see. I’d go in for more than that, if I were 
you,” said he. 

We both laughed. Constance had been abashed for a moment 
when she thought that she had mistaken my action for more than 
thanks, but Sandy had happily saved the situation. That evening sped 
all too fast. It was followed by other days and evenings that were as 
fleeting as they were entrancing, and I could scarcely credit my senses 
when I realized that I was upon a permanent footing of friendship 
with Constance Childs. It was dangerous for me, and I* was in peril 
every moment of committing some rash action or uttering words that 
were ever ready on my lips. Hargate came to the house continually, 
but as the days went by I became almost certain that he had no chance. 

Lent came in, and for a time at least social functions were some- 
what relegated to the background. I now began to resume my duties 
to the Secretary, but he was scarcely the same man he had been the 
summer before. He was more silent, more preoccupied. It was clear 
to me that the mental strain was telling upon him. I ventured to ask 
him about himself in one of our brief talks late one night. He was 
pacing up and down the library with his hands behind him, and I 
suggested that he needed rest. 

“ Rest, Stephen ?” he cried, wearily. “ Where is rest to be found in 
this great, restless, seething country of ours? Where can one get away 
from its continual upheavals, its perpetual jockeyings with its best in- 
terests? What it wants to-day it repudiates to-morrow. There is no 
common interest, no patriotism left in the land. Look at this great 
department of which I am the head ; see what the country expects 
from it at this present time. I send for this Senator and for that Con- 
gressman ; I talk to them of the best interests of the government ; I 
impress upon them the importance of laying aside sectional and party 
interests, and of standing together solidly for sound financial policy. 
But what good does it do? They go back to Congress and introduce 
all sorts of wild schemes and bills; they prate of silver and the income 
tax, and all the while I see the reserve in the vaults melting, melting, 
melting. Great God, Stephen, who could rest?” 

I had never seen him so wrought up; I had never seen him so un- 
reserved. I ventured to touch upon the supposed split in the Cabinet. 

“ Stuff, Stephen, utter stuff. My policy is the President’s policy, or 
I should not remain where I am ; but I am afraid that I shall not stand 
the strain physically. I do not sleep well ; I am pursued by a thou- 
sand demons of worry when I close my eyes ; I have nightmares of 
trying single-handed to coerce Congress to some decent concerted action. 
Everywhere I look in my dreams I see those cursed silver certificates 
coming in and gold going out to redeem them, and the country howling 
in my ears from every section. There is no man living capable of 
steering this country ; no group of men, even though they should band 
together, could stem or control the elements loose in our midst.” 

He stood with clinched hands for a moment by the table ; then he 
said, dropping them to his side and speaking in a quieter tone, — 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS . 


627 


“ My own affairs need looking after. I am much concerned about 
some important business interests in the Northwest. I need some one 
continually to look after them.” He regarded me steadily ; then he 
went on : 

“ Stephen, you are worthy of better things than to be a mere carpet 
knight. I have been thinking of you lately ; I have confidence in you 
and in your ability. I may call upon you suddenly. Can you hold 
yourself ready?” 

“ I can and will, Mr. Secretary ; and I feel deeply your confidence 
and interest in me.” 

“ I am sure of it. I may call upon you any day now ; but not a 
word of this.” 

We talked some time longer about his confidential affairs, and when 
the night was half spent I let myself out of the house. 

During the next few weeks I heard nothing more of the Secretary’s 
hint to me. I now went to the department every day and resumed 
my work in his office. True to her resolve, Constance devoted herself 
to her father and brother, and wherever she went Sandy went too. She 
drove her father out into the country almost every afternoon, and I 
often accompanied them. I did not let myself think of the future nor 
of my purposeless past. I lived as so many have lived before me and 
as so many will continue to live for all time, solely in the present. 
Constance continued to treat me with good comradeship; nay, even 
more than that, she admitted me to an intimate friendship. I was 
carefully on guard never to overstep the bounds, never to startle her, 
but it was an herculean restraint I was obliged to exercise. One day 
when Easter was close at hand and the days had been dreamy and 
spring-like, with crocuses and dandelions in the parks, she led me on 
to speak of the old Barradale house, and of my rebel grandfather who 
had never yielded an inch of his fealty to the Confederacy. She also 
led me to speak of myself. Her face was very grave when, without 
sparing myself one whit, I told her of my aimless life, of my unam- 
bitious college days, of my half-hearted endeavors at a profession, and 
of my final surrendering of everything in department life. I related 
to her also the circumstances of my secretaryship to her father and of 
my hated social services in her family. I told her that the only time 
in my life that I had felt the stirrings of free manhood such as ought 
by right to > belong to one was during the three months I had been 
so closely associated with the Secretary and had for a brief time been 
in a freer, larger atmosphere than had ever surrounded me before. I 
told her everything of myself, — that is, everything one could tell to a 
woman, — but I did not tell her of my affair with Mrs. Bomney ; there 
was my blunder. When I had finished my recital, I said, bitterly, — 

“ It is a sorry record.” 

She was thoughtful for a long time ; then she said, truthfully, with 
a half-sigh, — 

“ Yes, it is a sorry record ; but, Mr. Barradale, I have faith to be- 
lieve there is better stuff in you than you have admitted, and also I 
think that life here at the capital is partly responsible for the inertia 
you blame yourself for.” 


628 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


“ No, I cannot shield myself behind that excuse,” I replied. There 
was silence again, during which I watched her grave, thoughtful face, 
then I said, — 

“ Tell me of what you are thinking.” 

“ I am thinking of what you have told me of yourself. I have 
been used to idealizing men, I suppose ; that is, I have always believed 
that the men I should be brought in contact with would be, or should 
be, men strong enough to override fate, or whatever you may choose to 
call it; that they would overcome all obstacles in order to reach some 

high level or place ; and I had always supposed that the man I ” 

She stopped. 

I scarcely breathed. I repeated, — 

“ The man you what ?” 

“ Oh, well — ” she laughed, slightly and uneasily ; then she went on, 
“In looking around at the men I have met here in Washington I find 
I shall have to adjust my focus a little, or rather a good deal.” 

“ Yes, we are all a precious lot.” Then I added, looking her 
squarely in the eyes and compelling her to look at me, — 

“ You were going to say a moment ago that you had always supposed 
that the man you should love would be the man strong enough to over- 
ride fate, as you express it, whose life and attainments would be such 
that you could be proud of them and feel that you had not wasted 
yourself; that is what you meant?” I persisted. 

“ Something like that, perhaps,” she returned, indifferently ; and 
she got up from her chair to leave me. I detained her. I determined 
to have it out, come what would. I said, with suppressed fire, — 

“ There was a ‘ but’ in your mind awhile ago which I dare to in- 
terpret. You are a worldly woman. You do not want to waste your- 
self ; you do not mean to. You have the ball at your feet, but you 
have not found your ideal, who is to master all obstacles, of whose life 
and attainments you can be proud. Instead, you have found the other 
man, the man who has missed his opportunities, who is a failure in 
every way. What of him ? What are you going to do with him ?” 

I advanced a step towards her. She looked at me and drew about 
her instantly that intangible, invisible mantle of aloofness which 
women know so well how to wrap themselves in, and replied so im- 
personally and collectedly that I thought she had not understood me. 

“ The other man, you ask ? Why, he is about the only kind that 

a woman meets nowadays. He is so much an every-day occurrence 

and so continually in evidence that he is apt to be passed by.” She 
walked slowly to the door, and then stopped a moment and added, 
with a change of manner and with a daring look in her eyes, — 

“ Unless a woman happens, perhaps, to love the other man.” 

“ Constance !” I cried, and I sprang eagerly towards her ; but the 
door was shut with a bang in my face. What had she meant ? What 
was I to infer? Was it only a challenging, alluring piece of coquetry ? 
I wondered. I would not let a moment pass. I rushed out of the 

library in quick pursuit, only to encounter Mrs. Romney and Roger 

Macon just being ushered into the drawing-room on the opposite side 
of the hall, — confound them ! I had to stop and be polite when I was 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


629 


burning with impatience to know the meaning of the flash in Con- 
stance’s eyes. Besides, I also was impatient at the increasing intimacy 
of Mrs. Romney in the Childs household. Already small innuendoes 
were being bandied about the town, and Mrs. Romney’s name was 
again a target, as it had been once before among the men at the club, 
as I only too well remembered. When Mrs. Romney had passed into 
the drawing-room, Macon lingered a moment behind to say to me, — 

“ Barradale, some of the men are getting up a dinner to be given to 
Miss Childs, and you are wanted as one of the number. Will you 
join ?” i 

“ I don’t know, Macon : I don’t altogether like this fashion of 
dinners where there are eight or ten men present and only one girl and 
her chaperon. Who is to be the chaperon on this occasion ?” 

“ I don’t know ; I think it is not fully decided but Macon as 
he spoke did not look at me, and a sudden conviction flashed over 
me that the chaperon selected was to be Mrs. Romney, and that he 
knew it. But nothing more was said at the moment, for Constance 
came lightly down-stairs to greet the visitors, and I turned into the 
reception-room with her. I found it impossible to catch her eye, even 
for an instant. She was as cool and as unconscious as though she had 
not set every pulse vibrating within me only half an hour before. I 
soon found that the visit in the drawing-room was going to last for 
some time, so I excused myself on the plea of some important writing 
that I had to do for the Secretary. As I was leaving the room, Macon 
said, — 

“ Be at the club at six o’clock, Barradale ; Hargate, Bouton, and 
the rest want to settle the little matter I spoke to you about.” 

I nodded assent and left the room. A little later I went to the 
club, and at six o’clock I was waiting for Hargate. I wanted to see 
him alone to say to him what I could not say before the others; but 
Hargate and Bouton came in together, and I soon found that Bouton 
could not be shaken off. The dinner was broached at once, and I said 
to Hargate, — 

“ Who’s the chaperon to be?” 

" Mrs. Romney,” he promptly replied. 

I said, carelessly, “ Don’t you think, Hargate, that at a dinner of 
this kind it would be well to choose an older chaperon ?” 

“ What do you mean, Barradale ?” he asked, in surprise. 

“ Well, Hargate, I somehow don’t like the arrangement of these 
dinners, so many men, one girl, and ” 

“ But, damn it, man, we are committed already to Mrs. Romney, 
and I am sure Miss Childs has also heard something of it.” 

“ Can’t help it, Hargate ; fix it any way you choose, get out of it 
any way you can, but get out of it you must,” I said, with considerable 
heat. 

“ What’s the objection to the present arrangement ?” he asked. 

I did not reply, and Bouton looked uneasy. There was silence. 
At last Bouton spoke up with a slight sneer, and, in half-broken Eng- 
lish which I shall not try to set down, said, — 

“ It would seem that Mr. Barradale gives himself great concern in 


630 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


this matter of dinner. He might himself relieve the situation by 
withdrawing.” 

“ No, that would not change the situation at all. You may set 
down my objection to any cause you like; I can only repeat that this 
dinner as it is at present arranged must not take place.” 

“ You will be trying to carry it with what you call a high hand, 
Mr. Barradale, and maybe you are meaning to reflect upon a lady who 
is not without friends.” 

“ I am not meaning to reflect upon any lady ; that is scarcely in my 
line, Mr. Bouton ; but I ask you, Hargate, should you care to have 
your own sister go to a dinner with, say, ten men present and only one 
other woman, and that woman almost as young as herself?” 

There was silence, and both men shifted their positions slightly ; 
then Hargate said, slowly, — 

“You are right, Barradale; I shouldn’t like my sister to go to 
such a dinner under such circumstances. I will see what can be done. 
I will not repeat this conversation, nor will Bouton ; we will try to 
postpone the dinner for the present, and then we can perhaps arrange 
it in some other way that will be agreeable.” 

“ It would seem to me, in spite of Mr. Barradale’s reason for ob- 
jecting to this dinner, that there is something more; perhaps it is a 
tardy virtue, or tardy conscience,” sneered Bouton. The man evidently 
wanted to pick a quarrel. I could have struck him where he stood, 
but there must be no quarrel, no words even ; I must keep my temper, 
no names must be dragged into this. I shrugged my shoulders without 
replying. 

“Oh, come, Bouton, none of that: Barradale is right,” said Har- 
gate, gravely. I had been wondering how Hargate had ever coun- 
tenanced such a dinner in the first instance, for I knew him to be in 
love with Miss Childs, and I knew that he had heard Mrs. Romney’s 
name lightly spoken of among men. 

Just then several other well-known men came into the club, and I 
sauntered away. I could trust Hargate to manage the thing both dis- 
creetly and effectually, unless Bouton should mar everything with his 
tongue. I little guessed how much this dinner would undo me. 


CHAPTER IX. 

TOLD BY CONSTANCE. 

The morning after Sandy’s exploit, when he awakened from his 
long sleep and saw me beside him and remembered what had happened 
the night before, he broke down completely and buried his face in his 
pillow, crying hysterically* He was only sixteen years old ; it was 
his first misstep, his first shame. I felt the deepest sorrow and re- 
sponsibility when I reflected that I might perhaps have prevented it. 
If mamma and I had been ever at home during the last six or eight 
weeks we should have known that he was falling into evil, and we 
should have been able to save him from it. The poor boy sobbed on 
his pillow, and kept saying, — 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


631 


“ Go away, Conny : don’t look at me.” 

I gradually won him to a quieter condition of nerves. I made 
him understand that I was not going to sit in judgment upon him, 
and that neither papa nor mamma was to know of the escapade. I 
told him that I was going into partnership with him, that he was to 
go with me everywhere : we would have long drives together after his 
school hours ; we would have our dinner together, and instead of going 
out to dine, as I had been doing almost every day, I should decline 
such invitations, and papa, he, and I would spend our evenings cosily 
at home. The look that came into his face and swollen eyes repaid 
me a thousand times. He said, — 

“ Oh, Conny, it’s been so beastly dull here at home. I’ve had to 
eat my dinner all alone, for even the governor has gone out to dinner 
constantly, and mamma of course never is home, nor you either, and I 
don’t know what I’d have done but for Stephen. Lots of times he’s 
taken me out to dinner with him and then played pool with me all the 
evening, and he went round and straightened me out at school last 
week; and, Conny, I struck him last night. Yes, I did; don’t look 
at me so. He came and found me and tried to bring me home, and I 
didn’t know what I was about, and I struck him right in the face.” 

The boy began to cry again. I said, quickly, — 

“ Come, Sandy, be a man. Tell me this whole story. How did it 
all happen? Where were you? And how did Mr. Barradale receive 
such a cut?” 

Gradually the boy told me the whole story. It was pitiful. There 
was an unconscious side-light thrown upon the occurrence. For the 
first time I realized the horrible pit that lies at our very doors, ready 
to catch the stumbling feet of youth, and I resolved that Sandy should 
not be long out of my sight for the next few years. My task until he 
should go to college would be to influence him, to interest him, to do 
my part towards making a man of him. Any one may smile who 
chooses at my thinking that I could accomplish this, but I felt that I 
should not fail. Sandy was most enthusiastic over Mr. Barradale’s 
part in the night’s performance. According to the boy, he had attacked 
and knocked down the entire crowd of roughs, and in the boy’s eyes 
he was a hero. I felt that I should have to adjust my focus anew, 
and more than ever I was disturbed when I remembered my bearing 
towards 1 im in the past. 

I persuaded Sandy to get up and dress and come down-stairs and 
breakfast with me. A little later, when we were at the table, mamma 
fretful and tired, Sandy heavy-eyed, shamefaced, and dull, and I, in 
spite of having sat up all night, full of energy, life, and purpose, I 
had something mapped out in the case of this graceless young brother 
that gave me an aim, an occupation. I felt as though I were equipped 
to do battle with any untold evil that lurked in Sandy’s pathway. 
Some time later I meant to tell papa what had happened, and to enlist 
his aid as the boy should grow older. 

When Mr. Barradale came in finally we were still at breakfast. 
Sandy, he, and I exchanged glances full of understanding. We all 
three comprehended that we had formed a triple alliance against the 


632 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


powers of darkness, and that we should take no one into our secret. 
There was also on my part a tacit asking for pardon for myself. In 
the light of what had happened I was humble. I held out my hand 
and sought his eyes, this time on my own account and with no thought 
of Sandy. I met with quick and intense response. Indeed, I thought 
it expedient to drop my eyes and not look again. 

In a moment or two I announced to mamma that I should cancel 
my engagements for the rest of the season and devote myself to papa 
and Sandy. I won’t go over mamma’s disgusted remarks and her 
vigorous opposition to such a course. She adjured me not to be an 
“ idiot,” and her final remark as she swept out of the room was to the 
effect that I was a “ headstrong girl.” 

After she had gone, Sandy apologized to Mr. Barradale for the 
performance of the night before, and I despatched a note to Mr. Har- 
gate asking him to take tea with us at five o’clock ; for I had deter- 
mined to break my engagement for the german with him, and was 
going to tell him the exact truth. I thought he would not take 
offence ; but I gathered from Mr. Barradale’s manner that he did not 
agree with me. 

That day, true to the plan I had laid out, I took Sandy for a long 
drive in the short wintry afternoon. Mr. Barradale accompanied us 
on his mare Stephane. We had a delightful time, though I fear I do 
not fully appreciate the surroundings of the town, which he thinks are 
exceptionally beautiful ; but I have not the keen eye for every little 
touch of nature that he seems to possess. Nothing escapes him, ap- 
parently. I am surprised at this. He noticed the changing lights on 
the purplish hills, and piloted us to a high point from which the city 
could be seen in a complete basin at our feet. He told us much about 
the historic points of the town, and was delightfully interesting and 
earnest. Last and not least among the afternoon’s experiences, upon 
Sandy’s insistent demands he put Stephane through her paces. I never 
saw such jumps as this creature could make : she seemed one breathing, 
living mass of steel springs and elastic bands. And not a little was 
due to the magnificent riding of her master. They made a spirited 
silhouette against the dull, gray, overhanging wintry sky. 

We got home and found Mr. Hargate waiting. I threw off my 
fur and gloves in the drawing-room and prepared to make tea according 
to Dr. Ping’s instructions. Afterwards I entered upon my explanation 
to Mr. Hargate concerning the german of that night. I don’t know 
why it should have had such a singular effect on him, but he sat for a 
long time regarding me without speaking, and I thought I had made 
a mistake in confiding to him the truth about Sandy. I said, finally, — 

“ I thought you would understand, Mr. Hargate, and I fear you 
only think I am taking advantage of an excuse to get out of this 
german.” 

“ Understand? Of course I understand,” he replied, suddenly. 
“ I only wish there were more women like you ; there would be many 
a better man in the world, don’t you know.” 

“ Oh, you must not overrate me, or what I am trying to do. You 
see, Sandy is the only representative of our name, which papa has 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


633 


made honorable and respected, and it comes in my way to protect this 
boy possibly from further follies, and to help him enter upon his man- 
hood with papa’s name unsullied. I must keep him with me con- 
stantly, and not leave him to himself.” 

Mr. Hargate screwed his monocle into his eye, and said, with 
comical impressiveness, — 

“ What a blessed boy is Sandy !” 

Thereupon we both laughed ; but in a moment he became grave 
again and sat apparently in deep thought. Then he said, with a 
curious change from his previous light tone to one of earnestness, — 

“ Miss Childs, won’t you let me take a hand in this scheme of 
yours? May not I come and be one of your quiet home party 
to-night? You have no idea how I shine in the home circle, what a 
tremendous talent I have for domesticity. Here am I, far away from 
home and kindred, with no one to care how I spend my time. I need 
home influence too. Won’t you take me along with Sandy into your 
care ?” 

I did not know just how to take him, the man was so earnest and 
solemn ; but his proposition was so absurd that I treated it lightly and 
laughingly. 

“ I cannot undertake two wayward masculines at the same time, 
Mr. Hargate ; I am afraid that I must work out my ‘ home influence’ 
scheme upon Sandy alone.” 

“ Well, may I come every day and find out how you progress? I 
may be able to give you a valuable suggestion or two,” he pleaded ; 
and there was a warm look in his eyes which I thought it best not to 
encourage. So I managed to get into another channel of conversation ; 
but I thought that Mr. Hargate would never go. He finally went 
away, however, vowing that he should present himself again the next 
day. 

After he had gone I waited some little time, thinking that Mr. 
Barradale would come back, as he had promised to do ; but, as he did 
not, I went to dress for the early dinner at which I was to be hostess 
for him and Sandy, for papa and mamma were dining out, and we 
three should have it all to ourselves. 

Sandy and I had to wait some little time for Mr. Barradale, and 
when he did come in there was quite a noticeable change in him 
since the afternoon. All life had gone out of his manner. He was 
decidedly listless, though he made valiant efforts to match our simple 
fun ; but the dinner fell flat, and I caught Sandy eying him per- 
plexedly : he too had noticed the change. As soon as we went into 
the library I determined to find out what was the matter. His face 
bore unmistakable signs of some disturbance or suffering. I asked 
him if the bandages on his hand did not need loosening, and if he 
were not suffering. I tried to have him let me examine the hand, 
which in response he quickly raised as if to comply, but instead he 
clasped my outstretched fingers in his and pressed a burning kiss upon 
them. There was that in his manner and in the kiss that drove the blood 
from my heart for a moment and then sent it surging back to my face. 
I had had my hand kissed in Europe in the way so commonly done 


634 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


there, but this was another thing altogether. I darted a quick re- 
sentful glance at him. I was startled and uncomfortable ; but instantly 
he looked me coolly in the eyes, and said, with an inimitable manner, — 

“ Fealty to the skilful nurse and the good sister.” 

I never knew so quick or so neat an apology, but I was secretly 
disturbed by the occurrence, — though Sandy came to the rescue and 
with one of his boyishly characteristic remarks turned the tide. For 
the rest of the evening Mr. Barradale was the life of the party, and 
when papa came in from his dinner, mamma having gone on to a dance 
at one of the Legations, his expression brightened at the home-like 
scene made by the open fire and the genial pleasantness. His face was 
a sermon to me, and I knew how lonely, dull, and forlorn the home 
had been hitherto, when such a simple thing as the presence of three 
young people could brighten him so much. 

I made him sit down before the fire, and sent a servant for his 
smoking-jacket in exchange for his evening coat. I lighted a cigar 
for him and begged him to tell us about the dinner. He gave us a 
pithy account of the evening and the people ; then he said, turning to 
Mr. Barradale, — 

“ Stephen, Senator Reagan was there, and I broached to him the 
pending nomination, but of course they’ll go into executive session 
over it, and then no one will know till it is too late what blunder 
they’ll commit. I don’t think anything can be done with Reagan; 
he’s bound to vote with the silver men on this nomination.” 

Immediately papa and Mr. Barradale were fathoms deep in poli- 
tics. Sandy and I exchanged glances, — we were out in the cold ; but 
I was interested in spite of myself. It was a revelation to me to find 
how thoroughly papa relied upon Mr. Barradale’s judgment in public 
matters, and upon what intimate terms of equality these two men 
were. Finally, as papa in his interest in the theme began to pace up 
and down and to gesticulate as he gave vent to short, sharp utterances, 
I thought that it was time to put in a word ; 

“ Now, papa, don’t talk shop any more : let the old silver question 
and the bond issue alone. You know you are not sleeping well these 
days. Let the country go to ruin if it wants to : it has been going to 
ruin ever since it was born, according to common report.” 

Papa stopped and looked at me as if to reprove my flippant speech ; 
then he concluded to smile. He sat down in his chair with a sigh. 

“ Constance, you are right. Stephen and I always talk shop, but 
that is because Stephen is the only man I can talk out to with absolute 
freedom, and I have fallen into bad habits.” 

The rest of that evening was delightful. Long after twelve 
mamma came in. She threw open the library door wide, letting in a 
draught of air, and said, — 

“ Goodness ! are you all mewed up in this stuffy room, and with a 
hot fire, too? — Sandy, goto bed at once : you’ve no business to be up.” 

Mamma effectually dispelled us, and we all crept away to our re- 
spective quarters, rather as if we had done something to merit rebuke. 

During the days which followed I adhered strictly to the resolve I 
had made. I went nowhere except where Sandy could go. I drove 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


635 


papa out every afternoon, Sandy going along, and often Mr. Barra- 
dale accompanying us on horseback. I had finally established a most 
friendly footing with the latter, and I was daily astonished to find how 
much I had misjudged him. He was a man who on an intimate footing 
might well be dangerous to most girls, for he had an undeniable charm 
of manner; but I did not feel in any particular danger, for I was doubly 
guarded by my unsusceptible nature and the fact that he was not just 
the man I should fancy seriously anyway. I don’t know that I admit 
having an ideal, for I am eminently practical and unsentimental. I 
think that we end-of-the-century girls don’t have many ideals, and 
certainly not many illusions. We are pretty keen of vision, and I had 
sufficient worldliness to know that a man who occupied the position 
Mr. Barradale did would be decidedly ineligible, matrimonially viewed, 
no matter how charming he might be. I had ceased long ago to think 
him lacking in strength of character ; still, I could not be quite recon- 
ciled to his position and occupation. So, taking things together, while 
I felt the influence of his daily, almost hourly presence, and was some- 
times startled and made uncomfortable by the look in his eyes, I was 
yet in no danger whatever. 

Lent had come in, and social functions ceased to be for the time 
being the chief end of woman. I could not mistake the fact that I 
was being sought assiduously by Mr. Hargate, for, true to his threat, he 
came every day, and supplemented his visits with beautiful bunches 
of roses and violets ; but neither was I in any danger with him, for he 
was still less the man I should fancy, and, furthermore, he was not of 
our nationality, which would always be a bar with me, no matter what 
my sisters may think on the subject of international alliances. 

Just before Easter the weather became soft and languorous, and 
drives in the country were the most desirable occupation among the 
townspeople. It seemed to me that if I had not been able to see the 
beauty in the surrounding hills of the town in winter I saw it and felt 
it now, though I am not sure in looking back upon that time that 
I had not already undergone some change or received some silent 
lessons from nature. For upon all sides were crocuses, dandelions, 
young leaves, and soft air, which feasted the eye and lulled the senses. 
I had come in one afternoon from a long drive and ramble in the 
country, where I had dawdled with Mr. Barradale. He had sought 
out for me from under the dead leaves late sprays of arbutus, and had 
made up a dainty bunch of hepatica and bluets. He had decorated 
StSphane’s bridle with a bunch of them, and had fastened a bunch in 
his coat that matched my breast-knot of the same flowers. We had 
come back to town rather silently. Indeed, I had made conversation 
quite impossible by driving rapidly home, leaving St^phane far behind. 
I drew rein a moment on the high ground where we had stopped in the 
winter to overlook the town. It had undergone the fairy’s touch, and 
was one of the sights that I have many and many a time since driven 
all the way just to look upon, filled with tender memories. 

Later that same afternoon Mr. Barradale came in to ask for a cup 
of tea; not that he liked tea, but he heroically drank what I brewed 
for him. We were in the library, and under some spell that possessed 


636 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


me I asked him to tell me about himself and his family, and why he 
had located us in his grandfather’s house. He gave me a sketch of 
his people, and then went on briefly to record his own career. 

It seemed to me that he was bent upon putting himself in the worst 
light he could, for he was bitterly unsparing of himself, and would 
plead no excuse for not having made more of his life. He sat leaning 
towards me. His eyes never left my face, and there was a dumb pleading 
in them which made my words and my purpose weak and faltering. 
I was frightened at what I seemed to be calling down on myself. I 
was not prepared to meet any issue. I tried to give myself courage 
by reflecting that any girl in my place would be more or less swayed 
by such pleading eyes. It was enough to make any woman’s heart beat. 

He asked me in a low voice of what I was thinking, and in my 
utter demoralization I made some banal remark about having idealized 
men, and I implied something to the effect that the man I had always 
thought I should care for would be a man to hew his own way through 
all obstacles. There was something clumsy in my way of putting it 
that left an inference of which he was not slow to avail himself. He 
spoke quietly, but with repressed fire, and each word stamped itself 
upon my brain : 

“You are a worldly woman. You do not want to waste yourself, 
you do not mean to ; you have the ball at your feet, but you have not 
found your ideal, who is to master all obstacles, of whose life and 
attainments you can be proud. Instead you have found the other man, 
the man who has missed his opportunities, who is a failure in every 
way. What of him ? What are you going to do with him ?” 

As he spoke he came nearer to me. I could neither look at him 
nor answer for a moment; then I rallied and made some feeble remark 
about “ the other man” being apt to be passed by, after which I made 
a rapid retreat to the door, where I paused. Some sudden impulse 
which I could not control impelled me to add, with a slight signifi- 
cance, — 

“ Unless a woman happens, perhaps, to love the other man.” 

I hurried through the door and shut it with a bang, but not before 
I heard my own name uttered : 

“ Constance !” 

I dared not pause nor breathe till I reached my own room. My 
blood was racing through my veins, and my heart was beating to 
suffocation ; which was singular, for I had convinced myself only a 
little while ago that I was a worldly, end-of-the-century girl, without 
sentiment and without illusions, and, more than all, that I was entirely 
safe from the fascinations of such a man as Stephen Barradale. 


CHAPTER X. 

TOLD BY STEPHEN. 

For the next few days I haunted the presence of Constance in the 
vain effort to get a moment alone with her. I have not the slightest 
doubt that my state of mind was patent to any one who chose to 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


637 


observe me. I suppose I must have looked something like the fellow 
in Gibson’s drawing which is entitled “ Find the girl who has been 
kissed within ten minutes.” But I was utterly reckless of everything. 

There could be no doubt about it, she was skilfully avoiding me, 
and yet her avoidance was so seemingly natural, so apparently acci- 
dental, and her bearing was at times so tinged with a divine shyness, 
that this silent fencing was not without its charm and solace to me. 
But if she would grant me no opportunity, no speech, she had to 
endure a steady fire, a constant bombardment, till at last there crept 
into her eyes a half-helpless nervousness that was adorable. If I could 
have found or made my chance, then perhaps all would have been 
well, but every attempt to waylay her, to detain or surprise her, was 
unavailing, any ruse I employed was instantly detected. She seemed 
to melt away from me, to vanish, to become wholly elusive, and finally 
I had to desist from my hot pursuit, baffled for the time being. 

I was glad, therefore, for the heavy pressure of work in the Secre- 
tary’s office. During the winter and spring the new Congress, from 
which so much had been expected, had been behaving with even more 
idiocy than the preceding one, over which there had been a sigh of 
relief when it had expired. Important measures were being filibustered 
over and delayed. The Secretary was anxious, the President was 
anxious, and the country was discouraged. I had spent nearly every 
day for two weeks at the Capitol in the interest of the Secretary and 
his department. I was watching for a committee report on one bill 
and lobbying another, when I was recalled by Mrs. Childs to do her 
bidding. The town had begun to waken from the short somnolence 
of Lent. Easter and the middle of April had come, together with 
warm, enervating spring weather. The trees transformed themselves 
suddenly from their bare shivering appearance into a perfect glory of 
soft, tender green. Overcoats and wraps were recklessly cast aside, 
and people went about saying to each other, “Isn’t it hot?” 

It was, therefore, in order for Mrs. Childs to conceive the idea of 
winding up her already long list of brilliant entertainments with an 
Easter-week dance, the arrangements for which were given into my 
unwilling hands. My only consolation was that I must now find my 
opportunity with Constance. She should dance with me at this ball, 
and should hear me, come what might. It was some days since she had 
challenged me with speech and eyes in the library, and I was restless 
with impatience. I had heard nothing further from the proposed 
dinner which I had so strenuously opposed. I had not observed that 
Mrs. Romney had not been seen at the Secretary’s for some little time, 
and I did not know, of course, that a storm was brewing. Hargate 
had told me that the dinner had quietly been postponed, and that no 
one knew that any objection had ever been raised to it, save Bouton 
and himself : so I rested entirely easy, and proceeded with the arrange- 
ments for the ball. Everything was to be upon the most elaborate 
scale; the old-fashioned verandas were to be enclosed, and all the 
decorations were to be marvels of spring flowers. A day or two before 
the affair the ball-room floor was being newly waxed, which necessi- 
tated to my mind that Constance should try it with me, even though 


638 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


the men were still at work upon it. She almost yielded to my request, 
but there must have been a warning glow in my face, for she turned 
my seemingly careless suggestion skilfully aside. Thereupon I said, — 

“ You have never danced with me, Miss Childs.” 

“ You have never asked me, Mr. Barradale,” she returned, making 
me an old-fashioned sweeping courtesy. 

“And if I had?” 

“ Most certainly.” 

“ And you will let me make up for it the night of the dance here?” 
I asked, following her rapidly to the door, where she was evidently 
meaning to escape me. 

“ Yes,” she replied, rather uncertainly, and not looking at me. 

“Shall you go to the Embassy to-night?” I asked, persistently. 

“ Yes,” she again replied, in monosyllabic fashion. She hesitated 
a moment in the door-way. There was something conscious in her 
bearing. Then she hastened away beyond any further questions. It 
was useless to follow, for she fled to regions which I could not pene- 
trate. 

That night I too went to the Embassy. I walked through all the 
rooms; I would stop nowhere, save to greet the hostess and to 
acknowledge every now and then a salutation ; I was in search of 
Constance. I saw the Secretary standing in a group of men. He was 
talking in a low, impressive way, and they were listening eagerly. I 
heard part of a sentence which gave me the key to their conversation. 
The Secretary was saying, — 

“ It will insure the maintenance of the parity in value of the two 
metals, and the equal power of every dollar at all times in the markets 
and in the payment of debts.” 

A little further on I saw Mrs. Childs and heard the tones of her 
voice, so I changed my course and made a considerable detour, only to 
fall in with Miss Bellamy, who said to me, as she made an effort to 
stop me, — 

“ Is this rumor about a dinner true?” 

“What dinner?” I asked, scarcely noticing what she said, while 
my eyes were roving hither and thither with restless eagerness. 

“ Why, there’s been some row about a dinner that was to have 
been given to Mrs. Romney : I thought you’d know all about it. 
Bouton’s in a great state about it. I must say I think it’s time there 
was a row about Mrs. Romney : she’s ” 

“ I’m afraid I know nothing about it, Miss Bellamy,” said I, and 
I passed on carelessly ; but I was nevertheless a good deal disturbed : 
some one had got hold of it somehow. Just then my eyes fell upon 
Constance standing within the portieres in the smallest and most re- 
mote room of the suite ; and standing beside her was Bouton, talking 
volubly, almost excitedly. There was something in his attitude and 
manner and in hers that arrested my attention. I could not hear a 
syllable, but I watched them, fascinated. Constance was drawn up to 
her full height ; her face was pale and set. She was protesting ; her 
hand was slightly raised, as though to ward off something, and her 
eyes blazed with some feeling that I could not interpret. She turned 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


639 


as if to leave him, but he detained her, speaking vehemently ; then 
suddenly they both approached the spot where I stood somewhat 
screened by the portieres. I heard him say, distinctly, — 

“ It is, of course, as Miss Childs pleases. I but repeat a common 
report, and I should not have done so much but that I am meprisi 
and, as you say in your English — how is it ? < The worm turns 
around’ ?” 

As he spoke she stopped a moment and faced him, and if a 
woman’s glance could annihilate, Bouton would have fallen at her feet. 
They swept past me. Miss Childs went straight to her father, where 
Bouton drew his heels together, made a low bow, and retreated rapidly. 
I understood, of course, that he had been repelled and that he had not 
behaved well under it. I immediately made my way to Constance 
and joined her without delay. She barely acknowledged my saluta- 
tion, — in fact, she almost ignored it, — and turned to her father, saying, 
hurriedly, — 

“ Papa, I am going home : will you take me to the carriage ? You 
need not come yourself.” 

“ Why, of course, Constance. You look pale. Are you ill ?” 

“ I will take Miss Childs to the carriage, Mr. Secretary, if she will 
permit it,” I said, at once. 

“ I will not trouble Mr. Barradale, papa. I am very tired.” 
She turned away abruptly. The Secretary went with her, and I was 
left in utter bewilderment. I wondered what Bouton could have said 
that had made such a change in her. She was the Constance I had 
first known at the beginning of the year, not the half-conscious and 
wholly adorable girl I had seen in the old Barradale ball-room that 
afternoon. I went at once to make my adieux ; there was nothing to 
keep me now at the Embassy. As I made my way through the crowd 
I suddenly encountered Mrs. Romney, who also seemed to be leaving. 
She looked directly at me with as stony and immovable an expression 
as that of a death-mask, and passed on. It was the cut direct. I 
needed no further hint : I had the cue to the situation, or thought I 
had. It was that infernal dinner that was to blame ; but, while the 
dinner would account for Mrs. Romney’s cut, it did not account for 
Constance’s very evident disturbance and haughty bearing towards me. 

I pondered the evening’s occurrences long and late that night, but 
could make nothing of the situation. The next day I hoped for a 
word with Constance, but I did not even see her. Mrs. Childs said 
something in a fretful tone about Constance being “ frightfully used 
up,” and I hurriedly completed the final arrangements for the next 
night and betook myself to the club, where I found a note awaiting 
me. It was in a handwriting I well knew. It asked for an interview 
that night. An hour was mentioned, and it was signed “ Sibyl Rom- 
ney.” It was curt, it was cold, and it was to the point. I was in for 
it now, and no doubt I should have to face the music. There were 
various reasons why an interview with her was distasteful, and I knew 
of no good that it could lead to : so when I proceeded to her house it 
was with decided misgivings. 

I well remembered the last time I had crossed her threshold. I had 


640 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


flung myself out of her house with every feeling in me outraged and 
at war ; passion, disgust, and hatred had all struggled for the mastery, — 
passion for her, disgust for myself, and hatred for the miserable, dis- 
sipated man who had claimed to be Romney. The memory of that night, 
though more than two years old, made me set my teeth. When I was 
ushered into her drawing-room there was a subdued light softly flooding 
it. She rose as I entered. It was evident from the traces on her face 
that she had undergone some keen humiliation or some mental struggle. 
Her face had ever borne one great charm aside from her undeniable 
beauty : it was stamped with the grave, sweet innocence of a child 
that knows no evil, that is trusting and confiding, and yet it possessed 
the strength and grace of the woman. 

She stood a moment looking at me, and then said, slowly, — 

“ Stephen, why have you done me this ill turn ? Why have you 
made it possible for me to receive the humiliation I did last night at 
the Embassy ?” 

“ I am not responsible for any humiliation you may have received. 
Mrs. Romney : the responsibility lies at your own door, surely.” 

“ But did you not, knowing that I was to chaperon a dinner, break 
up that dinner? did you not go to the club and before a group of men 
speak ill of me?” 

“ I did not,” I replied, emphatically. 

“ But you broke up this dinner?” 

“ Indirectly, yes ; but your name was not even mentioned by me. 
It is not my way, Mrs. Romney, to speak ill of any woman,” I said, 
looking her steadily in the eyes. 

“ Nevertheless, I am told that you broke up this dinner, and it has 
gone all over town ; there are all sorts of reports which are cruelly 
false. It came to my ears a few days ago. It went to Miss Childs’ 
ears last night, with an insinuation that must shake even your nerve.” 

This shot told. I instantly recalled Bouton’s pantomime, his 
sneering words, and Constance’s rigid, freezing manner. 

“ Perhaps, since you have sent for me and have told me this much, 
you will tell me what these reports are.” 

“ Yes, I will tell you : they are not pleasant telling nor pleasant 
hearing for either of us.” 

She spoke bitterly, her voice and manner growing passionate with 
indignation. 

“ It is said that you objected to me as a chaperon for Miss Childs, 
and that the other men fell in with you, and the dinner was postponed 
indefinitely. There has gone to Miss Childs’ ears an ugly coupling of 
our names, which is hateful. So last night at the Embassy I was made 
to feel the displeasure of this world of yours, and you, Stephen Barradale, 
walked about graciously spoken to, while I ” 

“ Stop, Mrs. Romney ! stop where you are. This is a useless inter- 
view, and can lead to nothing but recriminations. These reports are 
false, utterly so, and ” 

“ Perhaps their form is false, but you do not deny having ( indi- 
rectly,’ as you expressed it a moment ago, broken up this dinner, and 
the world wants to know why. So they fasten upon the only one 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 041 

who is defenceless ; they make me their target,” she broke in, con- 
temptuously. 

“ Mrs. Romney, you cannot expect the world to be more careful of 
your good name than you are yourself.” 

“ That comes well from you, Stephen Barradale.” 

“ Yes, it comes better from me than from any one else, unless from 
Roger Macon.” 

“ Take care, Stephen ! take care !” she exclaimed, her face pale and 
her lips trembling. 

My words had struck her like a blow, but I was roused thoroughly. 
I crossed the space between us and sat down beside her on the divan. 
She drew away, as though afraid of me. I leaned forward, so that 
I could look into her face. She did not interrupt me, but shrank 
back into her corner. Something held her mute. I spoke out reso- 
lutely. 

“ I did object to your being a chaperon for Miss Childs at this 
dinner. You have for months past recklessly dragged your name 
almost to the verge of the precipice. You have been playing fast-and- 
loose with this young Virginian, just as you did two years ago with 
me. You dragged your name then, together with mine, so low that 
nothing but the blindness or complaisance of this great, overgrown, 
good-natured town saved you from open scandal. Of course you will 
say that I was willing to be dragged thus low, that I was willing to 
plunge with you ; but that is not true. I was at least honest. I was 
offering you my best; I loved you with all the manhood there was in 
me. I remember in my adoration trying to find something to compare 
your face to, and the only thing that came to my lips were the old 
words from the Bible, 1 for of such is the kingdom of heaven.’ I re- 
member how exalted and uplifted I was when I went away from you 
one night with the understanding that you would be my wife ; and 
then I remember my perplexity as you put me off day after day when- 
ever I pressed for our marriage. And then the town began to couple 
our names, and whispers came to me finally that you had a husband 
living somewhere; and in a frenzy I taxed you with it. You could 
not deny it; and all that night long I walked up and down the river 
bank, and when daylight came I was stern and resolved never to see 
you again. But you sent for me, you whistled me back, you cajoled 
me. Oh, yes, — don’t interrupt me, — I was willing, God knows. You 
played upon my senses. You blunted every feeling in me but one, till 
my passion for you was the only thing in my life, till I was ridiculous 
in my own sight and in the sight of the world ; and when I was at 
last unmanageable and you were afraid of me and did not know how 
to dispose of me, you brought to light that wretched, miserable man 
you called your husband ; and, after a scene which I do not think even 
you have forgotten, I flung myself out of this house and out of your life. 
You went to Europe till it blew over; I stayed here and w T as cut by 
my old friends. You came back after a year’s absence, opened your 
house, and this obliging town forgot the little talk you had created and 
took you back into its midst. And now you are playing on this other 
man just as you played on me, until his face tells its own story, which 
Vol. LVI.— 41 


642 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


anybody who runs may read, — till the men about town are holding 
your name lightly on their lips, till the women are beginning to think 
it time to shut their doors to you ; and when once they are shut, not 
even your wiles can open them. You are pursuing a dangerous, reck- 
less course, and you wonder that you meet with humiliations. You 
think it strange that you should not be able to sow the wind without 
reaping the whirlwind.” 

“ You are cruel, Stephen,” she murmured, while her hand was put 
up to shield her twitching lips. 

“ And what about the cruelty of such women as you, Mrs. 
Romney ?” 

“ Do you think I have not suffered too ? Do you think there is 
no excuse for me ?” she asked, bitterly. 

I did not reply. I was trying to decide whether it was possible 
that she had suffered ; and as I gazed at her searchingly, various 
emotions swept over her face under my steady eyes. As if she could 
bear my scrutiny no longer, she started up suddenly and exclaimed, 
imploringly, — 

“ For heaven’s sake go, Stephen.” 

I rose slowly to obey, and she dropped back upon the divan. Not 
another word was spoken between us. When I left the room she was 
huddled up in the corner among the cushions, with her face buried 
from sight. 

I rushed out into the soft April night, considerably wrought up. 
I had told some cold, blunt truths to the woman I had just left, and 
I was tingling now with the desire to face Bouton for five minutes. I 
was exactly in the right mood to reckon with him. I went rapidly to 
the club, hoping to find him there. As I went along, an overwhelming 
realization swept over me of the light in which I must stand before 
Constance. Her ears had been filled with insinuations of my old affair 
with Mrs. Romney : I knew that I had been brought before the bar 
of her pure woman’s judgment and that sentence had been passed upon 
me. Whatever footing I had gained with her had been ruthlessly 
swept from under my feet. I had had nothing to recommend me to 
her in the first place, save my old name, and naturally that counted 
for nothing in her estimate of a man ; but, alas ! even my name was 
not unsmirched. I stood before her now shorn of every attribute; 
there was nothing left for me but to retire from the scene. 

I stopped suddenly in my rapid walk, struck with the memory of 
the grim words of Epictetus : “ Zeus, you say, does not do right in 
these matters. He has opened the door to you ; when things do not 
please you, Man, go out, and do not complain.” Yes, there was 
always the open door, but I half smiled at the wild flight my thoughts 
had taken, and I brought myself down to a cool, quiet resolve : I 
should seek Constance, and, face to face, I would take from her lips 
her judgment of me, and I would abide by it. 

When I finally reached the club, I learned that Bouton had left 
town, and it was not known when he would return. 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


643 


CHAPTER XI, 

TOLD BY CONSTANCE. 

After my momentous interview with Mr. Barradale in the library, 
when I had been so nearly in danger of being swayed by him, I had 
taken refuge in my own den. It had been a case not only of retreat, 
but of absolute rout ; and while I stood wondering how I was going 
to meet him in the future, cards were brought me. Mrs. Romney and 
Mr. Macon were in the reception-room. Mamma was not at home, 
and I should have to receive them. I went down with as cool an ex- 
terior as I could command, and found that Mr. Barradale had joined 
them. The visit was inauspicious in every way, for it demanded not 
only my trying constantly to avoid meeting Mr. Barradale’s eyes, 
which sought me in open defiance of the presence of others, but also 
Mrs. Romney’s visit was a distinct annoyance to me. Ever since I 
had heard that there was a Mr. Romney living, it seemed to my eyes 
little short of effrontery for her to go about with the constant attend- 
ance of this Mr. Macon, for whom, somehow, I could not help feeling 
sorry. He was very haggard and unhappy-looking. Mamma told 
me that I was prudish and old-fashioned when I tried to explain my 
feeling about these two people, so I ceased to protest against them. I 
supposed it to be a Washington custom, perhaps. There were many 
things that had struck my stranger eyes as being rather extraordinary ; 
and if I made any comment I had always met with this remark : 

“ Oh, Miss Childs, you know we are so broad and cosmopolitan 
here in Washington.” 

This statement invariably closed all discussion. I came to the 
conclusion that it covered a multitude of sins, and that it perhaps ac- 
counted for the extraordinary freedom of speech and manners of some 
of the girls in the smart set whom I met continually, and among whom 
I knew that I should ever be an alien. 

But upon the afternoon of Mrs. Romney’s visit Mr. Barradale did 
not remain long in the drawing-room. After she had called him 
“ Stephen” twice in her purring way, he abruptly departed. This 
visit of Mrs. Romney’s was the last she ever made in our house. 

The next few days were exceedingly trying to me. I had to be 
constantly on the watch not to be surprised into an interview with Mr. 
Barradale. I hoped to ward off any further explanation until he 
should understand and withdraw ; and, to my surprise, I had to keep 
a tight rein upon a certain rebellious inclination within me which 
prompted me to succumb to temptation. His intense eyes were ever 
luring me to response or committal, until at last relief came in the 
shape of papa’s calling upon him to resume his duties at the depart- 
ment ; and for some little time our household knew him no more. 

At last Easter was upon us, and the social world awakened to new 
life. In spite of the hard times and the political strain and worry, 
society was prepared, like a butterfly, to flutter from garden fetes and 
teas at the club in the country to the heavier, more sombre functions 
in the stuffy town houses. 


644 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


Mamma, who is ever to the fore at the mere hint of a chance to 
entertain, decided to give an Easter-week dance, and I am sorry to 
think how many thousands of dollars she wasted upon floral decora- 
tions which were fresh for only a few short hours. It seemed cruel to 
twist the delicate flowers into garlands, to twine them incongruously 
around electric lights, to curtain door-ways and arch-ways with them, 
but so she elected to do; and Mr. Barradale was summoned to lend a 
hand in the arrangements. I heard him trying to persuade her that a 
simpler plan of decoration would be much better suited to the spring 
weather and the Easter celebration, but it was lost upon her, and the 
original arrangements went merrily forward. 

When I first came home from Europe I had been struck with the 
lack of energy and alertness among the people I met on all sides, and 
it was not confined to any particular class. There was a certain lazy 
passiveness, a certain slowness of movement, which I have never seen 
in any other locality ; but as time rolled on and I noticed also the 
want of snap and vitality, the utter lack of all brace in the air and 
climate, I soon began to understand why no one hurried in this part 
of the world. Even the dogs and horses partook of this general slow- 
ness of movement. But when April brought with it a sudden over- 
whelming heat, and there were scarcely any leaves upon the trees to 
protect one, it became almost impossible to throw off the inertia and 
lassitude that descended upon the whole town. I told mamma that it 
was positively inhuman to make people dance in such weather, and 
that the flowers would not hold up their heads an hour after the rooms 
were filled with people; but nothing was of any avail. 

A day or two before the dance Mr. Barradale suggested that we 
should try the ball-room floor, which had been newly waxed. I nearly 
fell into this little trap, but luckily saved myself in time. Then he 
remarked that I had never danced with him. Men sometimes are so 
sublimely and densely stupid : was it possible for me ever to have 
danced with him when he had never so much as asked me? — when I 
did not even know that he could dance? I told him that he had never 
asked me to dance. Of course he wanted to know if I would make 
up for it the night of our dance, and I assented ; and then he asked 
if I were going to the reception that was to be given at one of the 
Embassies that night. Again I assented, and I was given to under- 
stand that in that event he would be present also. I thought it time 
to make my escape. I did not look at him as he stood leaning against 
the door- way through which I wanted to pass. 

I had a profound contempt for myself that I did not put on my 
armor, straighten myself, and look him unflinchingly in the eyes. It 
had to be done some time ; it might as well be sooner as later. This 
sort of fencing was unworthy of me, it was cruel to him. I had 
always had a contempt for women who lead men on when they care 
nothing for them : was I not tacitly doing this very thing ? I only 
needed to stop for a moment, let him have his say, then gravely, 
kindly, but unmistakably say him nay; it would not take ten minutes. 
This sort of thing was ignoble in a woman who had as little sentiment 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 645 

as I, who was worldly, who meant to make a brilliant match some day 
when it suited her. No, this must end now, on the spot. 

I made a step forward which was full of determination. I began 
a sentence in a firm, cool tone. I looked him straight in the eyes, and 

1 stopped uncertainly ; then I turned and ignominiously rushed 

past him with most undignified haste. When I reached a place of 
safety, I said to myself, lamely, — 

“ It was a bad time and place to do such a thing, when the servants 
were likely to pass back and forth. I will do it to-morrow; it will 
keep till then. I will meet him to-night in public, and perhaps will 

wait until mamma’s dance is over; then ” I did not finish the 

thought in my mind. 

That night I went to the Embassy. I had a half-excited, half- 
frightened sensation of being upon the verge of a precipice over which 
I did not mean to plunge ; and when we, papa, mamma, and I, found 
ourselves in the crowded rooms, and when we had made our bow to 
the hostess, I could not prevent a stealthy glance around. Suddenly 
I was conscious of being an object of attention from several people. 
This was not unusual, but there was a look of curiosity in the glances 
which met me that perplexed me. Mr. Hargate joined me, and sug- 
gested that we should seek some cooler place, and we went to an 
alcove where there were open windows. There was something in his 
manner that was grave and preoccupied. Once or twice he seemed 
to be actually trying to stand between me and a loud-talking group 
of fashionable girls who were animatedly discussing some event. I 
was too indifferent to catch their words, which were surely loud enough 
to have been heard on the street without. 

When one of them made a movement as if to join us, Mr. Hargate 
deliberately squared himself and suggested that we should again move, 
— which we did. 

A little later I saw Mr. Bouton hovering uncertainly not far away, 
and at sight of him Mr. Hargate fixed his monocle and gave him the 
most absolutely freezing, glaring glance I ever saw. What was the 
matter with everybody ? I wondered. 

Just then a message was brought to Mr. Hargate which seemed to 
necessitate his leaving me. He said, reluctantly, — 

“ Miss Childs, let me take you to the Secretary : I am called away 
for a moment.” 

I turned with him, but we could not see papa anywhere ; so I 
stopped beside mamma, and he disappeared. Almost immediately Mr. 
Bouton approached me, and, with a low bow, said, — 

“ I am pained that Miss Childs should have any discomfort from 
these reports ; I did the utmost to prevent them from reaching her ; 
but I hope I am exonerated.” 

“ I do not know in the least what you are talking about, Mr. 
Bouton : I am quite in the dark.” 

“ Pardon me, then ; I fear I have permitted myself an indiscretion. 
I will withdraw.” 

He started to leave me, but I felt a most natural curiosity, and I re- 
called the scrutiny I was undergoing : so I detained him and asked him 


646 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


to explain what he meant. He ottered his arm with another of his 
hideous little bows. I took it, and we proceeded to the smaller of the 
rooms at the end of the suite. 

I shall never forget that room, and I shall never, never forget the 
air the band was playing. There was a heavy odor of fading flowers, 
the window was letting in the warm April breeze, and this hateful man 
was, with shrugs, with hardly veiled insinuations, and with open words, 
telling me a story that made the indignant blood come to my face and 
my heart stop beating suddenly, sending a sick, creeping sensation all 
through me. 

When I could command myself and my voice, I broke in upon his 
stream of words : 

“ Mr. Bouton, you shall not tell me another word. I will not hear : 
it is nothing to me.” 

“ But, on the contrary, it is everything ; two ladies are given noto- 
riety by it, and if Mademoiselle will allow me I will stop these stories 
in her behalf.” 

“I will hear no more, Mr. Bouton : this story is a gross slander. 
I care nothing about this dinner nor why it was broken up, but the 
story behind it is false. I know both the people whom you thus assail, 
and I know it is false.” 

“ Ask Mrs. Romney, question Mr. Barradale, or Mr. Hargate, if 
this story is not what I state it to be. All the town has known it for 
a long time.” 

“ I command you to be silent.” 

I turned and walked rapidly away. He followed me closely, and 
said, with a shrug and a curl of the lip, — 

“It is, of course, as Miss Childs pleases. I but repeat common 
report, and I should not have done even so much but that I am me - 
piis^y and, as you say in your English — how is it? ‘The worm turns 
around.’ ” 

I made no reply, but I shot one contemptuous glance at him and 
gained papa’s side without losing any time, where, happily, this man 
was obliged to leave me. Just then Mr. Barradale, cool, grave, and 
immaculate, came towards me. My heart gave one throb, then sank and 
was still. I was still too. I felt as though I had been hewn out of 
stone. I don’t know whether I greeted him or not. There was a look 
of eager confidence in his eyes as he sought mine ; then I saw gradually 
a look of surprise come into them. I don’t know what I said, but at 
last I made papa understand that I wanted to go home. I pleaded 
fatigue, I remember, and speedily I was cloaked and making my way 
to the carriage, whither Mr. Barradale did not follow, for I had curtly 
declined his proffered escort. 

Papa stood on the curbstone, perplexed whether to follow me or to 
wait for mamma. I soon cut things short by closing the carriage door 
and saying to the footman, shortly, “ Home.” 

When I was in my own room with the door locked, and when I 
had pulled off my ball finery, I pieced together the fragments, the in- 
sinuations, the shrugs and words of Mr. Bouton, and made a tolerably 
clear story out of them. I did not stop to think how exaggerated they 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


647 


probably were, how inconsistent, and how long ago it was all supposed 
to have happened. I was only a young woman who was brought face 
to face for the first time with what seemed in her eyes base hy- 
pocrisy and deceit. This man, this Stephen Barradale, whom I had 
known so well, with whom we all had been upon such intimate terms, 
had loved Mrs. Romney, and, knowing, of course, as he must have 
done, that she had a husband living, had been so infatuated with her 
that he had defied public opinion and had recklessly imperilled her 
name, together with his own, until she had been forced to go to Europe 
to escape the talk of the town, while he had coolly stayed behind and 
accepted the cut direct from his friends. Notwithstanding this, so 
complaisant was he that he continued to be her friend, even introducing 
her into our family; and he himself did not scruple to remain in an 
intimate position in our household, taking advantage of our ignorance, 
posing as an example and a hero in Sandy’s boyish eyes, and crowning 
all this by professions of love to me. 

I covered my face with my hands. Shame, pride, wounded vanity, 
and something deeper still, struggled for the mastery. I felt the hot 
tears drop through my fingers. 

I had been posing all the spring. I had been deceiving myself for 
weeks. I had talked of an ideal, I had thought of a brilliant match, 
I had been worldly, arrogant, haughty, and selfish in turn ; and then I 
had offset the list by becoming gentle, friendly, and womanly, which 
had fast changed into coquetry, coyness, consciousness, and fear. 

I had boasted to myself that this man was not one I could fancy, 
that I had nothing to fear for myself. I was not sentimental nor sus- 
ceptible; his occupation, his want of high aim in life, barred him from 
me. I had even gone so low as to be afraid that I was cruel to him. 
I had felt that I must end the thing after mamma’s dance. And all 
the time this was pretence. There was no disguise now : I faced my- 
self that night in my room behind ray locked door; my pride, my 
vanity, trailed in the dust. I loved Stephen Barradale ; I had loved 
him ever since he had stood by Sandy’s bureau in the winter with the 
blood trickling from the open cut upon his hand. All the winter 
and spring I had heard this Mrs. Romney call him “ Stephen ;” I had 
heard her say in her soft voice again and again, “ Stephen is such an 
old friend of mine,” or, “ You must not grudge me Stephen, I have a 
prior right ;” and I recalled how I had seen this poor, befooled Roger 
Macon set his teeth and walk away. 

What were people thinking of in this benighted town, that they 
would tolerate such a woman or such a man ? And I recalled the tones 
and shrugs of Mr. Bouton and the glances of curiosity that men levelled 
at me that night, — I, who was as innocent as any child, — I, who was 
the victim, though no one knew it. 

Mamma came to my room later to know why I had come home so 
early, and if I were ill. I called back, without unlocking my door, 
that I was not ill, I was only dead tired and wanted to be let alone. 
This was not my usual politeness to mamma; but who could be polite 
with mortification and wounded love battling within one? 

After mamma had gone I feverishly went over again Mr. Bouton’s 


648 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


disjointed words and insinuations. I recalled everything I could re- 
member concerning Mrs. Romney’s frequent visits. I reviewed every 
incident of my friendship with Mr. Barradale, until I had to cover my 
burning face as tones, looks, manner, and words came crowding before 
me. All had been lavished upon Mrs. Romney too, and I could hear 
her voice in my ears, her soft, dove-like voice, saying, “ Stephen.” 
Bah ! It was disgusting ! 

No one should ever know how nearly I had come to making a fool 
of myself. I would take my hurt to some dark corner and plaster it 
up. It was an end-of-the-century heart that was smarting and crying 
out. It could not, therefore, be seriously or long out of order ; it was 
too strong, too elastic, too practical. 

But I made up my mind to see Stephen Barradale. He should 
hear the truth for once, and from my own lips. 


CHAPTER XII. 

TOLD BY STEPHEN. 

After I had failed to find Bouton that night I went in search of 
Hargate. I wanted to know how far the rumor concerning the dinner 
had gone, and just what version Bouton had set in circulation. It 
took some time to run Hargate to cover, and I was just about to give 
him up when he turned up at the club. We sat in my room far into 
the night, talking and smoking. Hargate was positive that Bouton 
had left town to avoid the consequences of his indiscretion, and he 
predicted that when the affair should become fully known at his 
Embassy he would undoubtedly be recalled by his government; for, 
as Hargate wound up, — 

“ He’s a beastly little cad, anyway, not fit to be in the service. 
This story will blow over, and will be only a nine days’ talk : so don’t 
look so gloomy, man.” 

But of course Hargate did not know that the whole thing was 
likely to be my Waterloo; he did not know how seriously my name 
had been coupled with Mrs. Romney’s in the past ; and equally of 
course he did not know how much I had at stake with Constance. 
When he was about to leave me after long and friendly converse, I 
said to him, — 

“ Hargate, if I should call on you in a hurry or unexpectedly in 
the next day or two to close up affairs here for me and to take 
charge of St§phane until I can manage for myself, will you do it?” 

He looked surprised, or as much so as his English nature would 
allow him to do, but said, promptly, — 

“ Of course I will, old man. But surely you don’t contemplate 
anything rash with Bouton?” 

“Oh, no. I’m not even thinking of Bouton, although I could 
break every bone in his body with a will if I could lay hands on him. 
I am thinking of myself. I may go away suddenly and hurriedly : 
there is a half-chance of it. That is what I had in mind.” 

“ You may call upon me in any way,” he replied, warmly. 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS . 


649 


Hargate was a thoroughly good fellow, and I wondered how Con- 
stance had failed to see all the advantages he possessed and why she 
had passed him by. We talked a little while longer, and he went 
away. I was too restless to turn in, so I threw myself down upon a 
low couch that ran along one side of the room and slept heavily till 
daybreak ; then I got up, and with a slight change of dress went to 
the stable where StSphane was kept, saddled her, and rode out into the 
open, peaceful country. 

The low hills which surround the town upon all sides were 
shrouded in a soft, purplish-pinkish mist. The first rays of the rising 
sun slanted across the fields and meadows ; myriads of fine cobwebs 
which sparkled with heavy drops of dew were stretched across the grass 
and the fence-corners. The hedges and bushes were just beginning to 
show buds of tender green, and the whole morning rang with the 
chatter of the fussy little sparrows as they awoke with the day. There 
was no sign of life or stir anywhere abroad, save that of nature. 
Everything was stamped upon my brain with keen vividness, and I 
remembered it long. It was my last ride upon Stephane. We came 
back to town just as the milk-wagons were rattling over the pave- 
ments, and the newsboys were delivering the morning papers, and the 
lazy, idle town was sleepily opening its eyes. 

Later in the morning I went to the Secretary’s, and found him 
and Sandy having an early breakfast together. Sandy was grumbling 
audibly about having to go to school, which, as he expressed it, was 
a “ darned hard grind on a fellow.” I walked over to the depart- 
ment with the Secretary. Afterwards I sent several telegrams for 
him, and, though I transcribed them, their purport did not strike me 
until late that night. I was so absorbed in trying to forecast the 
interview I meant to have with Constance that everything else was 
lost on me. I did not know when or where this interview would take 
place, but I knew it might lurk in any hour of the next twelve ; after 
that, the deluge. 

Constance was going out on a coaching-trip that afternoon, the 
destination being the club-house, where there were to be some hurdle- 
races and exhibitions of high jumping. The whole affair was rather 
in her honor. Mrs. Childs was to drive out also, and the Secretary 
was to accompany her if he could get away from the pressure of public 
business in time. I had been expected to be one of the men to take 
part in the races and the jumping, but I was in no humor for it, and 
therefore did not give it a second thought. 

That afternoon the Secretary asked me to look up an authority in 
a certain matter, the papers of which were at his house, and thither I 
went for them. As 1 entered the house I gave a glance at the decora- 
tions in the reception- and ball-rooms. Everything seemed in readi- 
ness for the dance that night. Then I crossed the hall to the library. 
I had scarcely stepped over the threshold before I knew that my 
opportunity had come. I quickly closed the door and stood facing 
Constance, who had risen from a chair and was regarding me coldly. 
I made that ever inane remark, couched in the form of a question, — 

“ You did not go out with the coaching-party?” 


650 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


To this there was no reply. She said, after a moment, — 

“ Mr. Barradale, I have something I wish to say.” 

She hesitated slightly, then motioned me to sit down ; but I vastly 
preferred the advantage of standing. She dropped into a deep arm- 
chair. Behind her was an open window, with the soft April air blow- 
ing the curtains apart and the sounds of the street coming in distinctly. 
She fixed upon me a level, straight look that went through and through 
me. At the same time it roused all the slumbering spirit in me. I 
prepared silently for combat. 

“ I have heard about this dinner, and I have also heard of other 
things.” 

“ I presumed so,” I replied, quietly. 

“ Mr. Barradale, I am going to speak plainly, in a way I never ex- 
pected to speak to a man. It will not be a pleasant task, but the gross 
advantage you have taken of us in our family leaves me no choice. 
The breaking up of a dinner is. of no moment to me, but the reason 
assigned for it is of great moment. It is said that you do not think 
Mrs. Romney a fit woman to chaperon me; at the same time I hear 
that not so long ago your position towards her was such that it created 
almost an open scandal, from which she escaped by going to Europe, 
and you, who remained, were cut by people here. Yet, notwithstand- 
ing this, you introduced her into our home, and you yourself have 
remained in a position of nearness to us. Now, Mr. Barradale, my 
creed is that if the woman is to be ostracized, so the man must be. 
How does my point of view strike you ?” 

“If your premises were cor/ect, I should applaud your sentiments,” 
I replied, coolly. 

“My premises may be incorrect, but what of the main facts?” 

“I do not deny them, but the reports you have heard are basely 
exaggerated, maliciously so. I will tell you the truth if you will 
kindly hear me.” I forced myself to speak calmly. 

“But I will not hear you; this tale can be of no possible interest 
to me.” 

“But you shall hear me, Constance,” I cried, advancing a step 
towards her. Then I said, more quietly, — 

“ There is no criminal, however mean, that is condemned unheard.” 
I paused a moment. She said, curtly, — 

“ Go on.” 

“About three and a half years ago Mrs. Romney came here to 
Washington. She came alone, and established herself quietly. She 
was sad-looking and young; she spoke of herself as having had sorrow 
and being alone in the world, and people naturally took it for granted 
that she was widowed. The smart set took her up and made much of 
her, for she seemed to have money. I fell in love with her promptly, 
and she gave me to understand that she would marry me. Then sud- 
denly rumors spread over town that Romney was living somewhere in 
a retreat. I taxed her with it; she could not deny it, and I made 
ineffectual attempts to break away. The town began to talk about us, 
when suddenly Romney appeared and made a scene. Mrs. Romney 
went to Europe ; I took the brunt of it by staying here and being cut 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


651 


for a time by my old friends. This was a little over two years ago. 
I have never crossed her threshold since till last night, when she sent 
for me. This is all there is to the tale.” 

“ It is quite enough, and I haven’t much faith in the theory of a 
woman victimizing a man,” she said, contemptuously. 

“ I am not posing as a victim ; I have taken my full share of the 
blame in the matter always ; the only excuse for me was that I was 
honest. I was offering the best there was in me, which God knows 
was little enough, and I did not know in the beginning that Romney 
was living.” 

“ This Washington of yours, Mr. Barradale, is a singularly obliging 
and good-natured town. I suppose it knows of the existence of this 
Mr. Romney by this time, and yet it continues to look with toleration 
on her and her affairs, and you, who confess to having been her friend, 
continue her friend, introducing her even into quiet homes.” 

The tone of her voice, the scorn of her words, goaded me to anger. 

u Your words are insulting, and so is your insinuation ; you use 
the privilege of your sex, knowing you can say with impunity what a 
man cannot resent. Heaven knows I have atoned a thousand times 
over for my past folly; but a man cannot go on humbling himself for- 
ever, so I shall make no further explanations concerning Mrs. Romney. 
But one word more: I went to the length of breaking up this dinner 
to prevent your appearing in public under her chaperonage. I would 
have done as much had any other young woman stood in your place ; 
but it would have been particularly galling to have you go to this 
dinner, for I have committed the ineffable folly of loving you. I have 
loved you for months, even when you showed your contempt so openly 
for those of us less fortunate than yourself. When your worklliness 
seemed to dominate every action, and when you treated me with less 
courtesy than you showed the butler or the footman, even then I loved 
you ; but I never meant that you should know it, for there was not 
much in your manner and bearing at that time to win an avowal even 
from the most courageous man. But when you gave me your friend- 
ship, when you listened to the recital of my aimless, purposeless life, 
when you seemed sympathetic, nay, at times lately even more than 
sympathetic, I not only loved you, but I felt that I had a right to love 
you. And now when I stand before you, shorn of everything in your 
sight, even of my good name, I still dare to love you and to tell 
you so.” 

“ You have chosen a singularly inauspicious time to tell me this. I 
don’t know what you can expect of me,” she said, in a low tone, but 
without looking at me. Then she rose from her chair, and, turning 
towards me with her eyes glowing darkly, said, half scornfully, half 
sadly, — 

“ I have had a blow, one that has shocked and disgusted me in- 
tensely. The men that I have best known have been men that society 
could not point to nor fasten scandal upon. But men of the world 
like you, Mr. Barradale, think they can make any use of their lives 
they please. They run the gamut of experiences, both bad and indif- 
ferent, then they come and coolly offer what is left of their lives and 


652 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


the remnant of what they call love to a woman who practically does 
not know what evil really is; and they feel no compunction whatever : 
they consider the exchange of their own sated, jaded emotions for the 
fresh love of a girl a perfectly fair thing. I should scorn to give my 
love and my life to such a man, a man who by his own admissions 
has dragged himself and his name through an affair which, even in 
the best light, was questionable, and who has made no better use of 
his life than you have done, Mr. Barradale.” 

Her words were so many stabs. This was even worse than I had 
anticipated. I had indeed received my judgment from her own lips, 
face to face. It was rough and severe, and was more than even I 
merited, but there was no use to protest. I said, quietly, — 

“ I have not asked anything of you, neither your love nor your life. 
I recognize that they are not for me. You have been severe, and as 
soon as you can think calmly and dispassionately of me, or as soon as 
you can think of me without contempt, remember one thing only, that, 
such as I am, I love you. Your ideal man, of whom you spoke the 
other day, perhaps will do no more than this. Think kindly, if you 
can, of the ‘ other’ man ; he loved you too.” 

I turned swiftly and walked out of the room and out of the house. 
A huckster was shrilly calling “ Strawberries” outside, and a street 
piano was grinding out, maddeningly, “ Oh, promise me ;” the April 
sunshine was sparkling everywhere ; there was the very triumph of 
spring in every sight and sound of the late afternoon. I went to my 
den at the club and looked around. There would not be much to pull 
up : my belongings were of the simplest; a few family relics, one or 
two almost invaluable heirlooms, were all that I possessed. They 
were small and portable. I rang for one of the club servants ; there 
was not a man of them who would not serve me gladly in any way. 
I gave instructions to pack up everything that belonged to me. I 
wrote a note to Hargate, ready to be posted later. I sent one to the 
stable where StSphane was kept, then I gave a couple of hours’ help 
to the man who was stowing away my possessions. I dressed hastily, 
dined hastily, and just before eight o’clock went to the Secretary’s. I 
wanted a few minutes’ interview with him, and then my distasteful 
secretaryship would be at an end, and I could turn my back upon the 
District of Columbia with an easy conscience, though with an uneasy, 
leaden heart. God only knew where I was going or what I was going 
to do. My one regret would be in parting with the Secretary. The 
whole air of festivity at the Childs’ was the forerunner of the dance 
that was soon to begin. I sent word to the Secretary, who came down 
at once to the library, but, upon finding open doors, bustling servants, 
and a flood of light everywhere, he took me up-stairs to a retired room 
that was sacred to his own use. Before I could say a word of what 
was on my lips, the Secretary turned around upon me and said, — 

“ What is the matter, Stephen ? Has anything happened ? You 
don’t look like yourself.” 

“ Mr. Secretary, I am going to leave town to-night or to-morrow 
morning, and I shall be gone indefinitely; therefore I have come 
to ” I could get no further. He interrupted me eagerly : 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 653 

“ Then you got a reply to that last telegram you sent for me this 
morning?” 

I looked at him in utter surprise, and said, slowly, — 

“ No, I have not received any telegram.” I tried to recall the 
telegrams I had sent that day. Suddenly one of them came back to 
my mind, which had read, “ Wire me the position of affairs; shall 
send man with full instructions and authority to-night or to-morrow.” 
The Secretary spoke again in a perplexed way : 

“ I cannot understand the delay, Stephen. I mean to send you out 
to that bank affair of which I spoke to you several days ago. There 
is a crisis approaching, and they’ve lost their heads. I’ve been waiting 
to hear all day, for I could give no final instructions nor send you until 
I had their message ; but there is no doubt that you must go at latest 
to-morrow, and I hope you will be prepared, as you said just now, to 
remain indefinitely. I want you to represent me out there, and when 
this particular affair is safe I’m going to make you a permanent offer 
to take charge of my business interests so long as I remain here in 
office. I can trust you absolutely, and though you have had no ex- 
perience you will soon learn. You managed admirably for me last fall, 
and I’ve found out that you have good, cool judgment; in fact, you 
have a good head. You are doing nothing worthy of yourself here. 
I need you. Can you go? You came here to tell me something to- 
night : what is it ? Speak out ; let everything be clear before you 
undertake this mission.” 

He looked at me kindly and anxiously. I could not reply. I 
wrung his hand in silence ; my own explanation remained on my lips 
unuttered. Here was deliverance swift and immediate : I could retire 
from the scene with some remnant of dignity. He talked to me for 
nearly two hours, stating the position of affairs. I jotted down much 
that he said. He had already made me fairly acquainted with this 
affair, and I was beginning to grasp the situation. I finally said, — 

“Mr. Secretary, there is something behind this; there is some 
rascality going on out there. These figures and statements do not fit.” 

“ I’m afraid so, Stephen. You are to find out what it means and 
act for me.” 

Just then strains of music floated through the house and the roll 
of carriages was distinctly heard. The Secretary was sent for by Mrs. 
Childs, and a message also came to me that I was wanted down-stairs, 
but I had no intention of appearing or of looking again on Constance. 
Finally the Secretary had to go below. As he was leaving me he said, — 

“Aren’t you coming, Stephen?” 

“No; I shall go over these figures and statements again.” 

He eyed me for a moment keenly, then said, — 

“ There is something the matter.” 

But a still more urgent message, one that was a demand, came 
just then, and the Secretary hurried away. I lighted a cigar and pro- 
ceeded to make myself as comfortable as was possible ; but Constance’s 
stinging words and repulse of the afternoon prevented anything but a 
weary going over of the interview, and I was filled with bitter reflec- 
tions upon men and women and the perversity of human actions. 


654 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


I walked up and down with my hands in my pockets, until Sandy 
came into the room with various items of news from the dance below. 
I gathered that Constance was “ stunning,” that she had on something 
“shiny and white, ” that Hargate was all devotion, and in Sandy’s pri- 
vate opinion it was a “ dead mash on both sides.” I understood also that 
Mrs. Bomney was not present, and Bouton had not turned up either. 
I learned that I was being asked for, and Sandy counselled me to go 
down-stairs, “ so the old lady would stop talking about it and let up 
on the governor.” 

In a few minutes Sandy had swung himself down-stairs for further 
items of interest, and I threw myself down upon a lounge, listening 
to the familiar dance-music that beat with regular rhythm in my ears. 

About eleven o’clock the long-expected telegram came, and I sent 
a footman to whisper to the Secretary to come up-stairs for a few 
moments. He came hurrying up with as light and springy a step as 
a boy’s. It was found from the telegram that matters were indeed 
urgent ; but it was too late for me to get off that night. We went over 
the whole state of affairs again. I was instructed minutely upon every 
point that it seemed possible could arise ; I was instructed about the 
transfer of stocks and bonds; I was given unlimited cheques and un- 
limited power; I was told to use the wire freely and the long-distance 
telephone; and when our second conference that night was over we 
found that the ball was over too. The last carriage had gone, the 
lights were being put out, the flowers were faded, and the Easter dance 
was a thing of the past. When nothing seemed left to be discussed, 
when the details of my trip the next morning were gone over, and I 
had in my pockets all the necessary papers and cheques, the Secretary 
said, as he grasped my hand, — 

“ Stephen, you understand that this is the beginning of years of 
service; that it is not merely a short trip, but it means giving up 
everything here, probably forever. You are sure you understand ?” 

“Mr. Secretary, I understand it perfectly. I am more grateful to 
you than I can express. I had come here to-night to say to you that 
my life had grown intolerable in this town, and that I must go and 
seek some foothold elsewhere. This mission and all that it promises 
are the beginning of life to me. I cannot thank you enough for open- 
ing the way before me. You will make my adieux to Mrs. and Miss 
Childs. And be assured that I shall not fail in this enterprise.” 

“ I am sure of it, Stephen. Good-by, and God bless you.” 

With one more grasp of hands we parted, and I went heavily down 
the silent stairs to the silent hall below. Bits of faded flowers were 
strewn upon the floor. The yawning rooms gave back a dark, deserted 
look, but there was a faint streak of light under the library door; 
some careless servant had left the light burning there. I turned the 
handle, and as the door swung open it almost struck Constance. She 
was still in ball-dress, and must have been leaving the room as I 
entered. Her face bore marks of the utmost fatigue. She was pale 
and weary ; there was something passive in her manner and in the 
way her bare arms hung at her side. I looked at her intently. I do 
not know what my own face expressed, but I know that there was a 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS . 


655 


wild feeling of loss surging in my blood. There was a mingling of 
expressions in her eyes under the gaze I fixed upon her. I don’t know 
that I read one of them aright ; I only knew that she was agitated and 
uncertain, and that she was beautiful. I was conscious that I was 
about to part from her. I stepped nearer to her, and, scanning her 
closely, said, — 

“ I hope I have not startled you by opening the door so suddenly. 
I did not know you were here.” 

She made no reply, but there was something in her eyes and 
about her mouth that made me reckless. I quickly went to her side 
and looked into her face. I bent my head close to hers, murmuring 
her name. I gathered her in my arms and pressed upon her lips one, 
two, three swift, passionate kisses, then I released her without a glance 
or a word and quickly left the room and the house. I did not see her 
again. 

I went completely out of her life, — -just as completely as I went 
away from the town the next day. My note was posted to Hargate : 
Stephane was to be kept for me till I could send for her ; every tie 
was severed ; my bridges were burned behind me ; it was “ Exit 
Stephen Barradale.” 


CHAPTER XIII. 

TOLD BY CONSTANCE. 

“Sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow’s eye,” did not visit me 
the night that Mr. Bouton had paraded his obnoxious words and still 
more obnoxious insinuations and shrugs before me ; and when morning 
came I was so tired, exhausted, and wretched in mind and body that I 
made no effort to descend to our mid-day breakfast. Mamma came 
up-stairs and fumed about for a while, declaring that she did not know 
what ailed everybody : when she was a girl, she never thought of 
staying in her room all day, but girls nowadays could not endure any 
fatigue. I tried to persuade her that nothing really ailed me, unless 
it was the malady which an old negro aunty, who sat outside the big 
market with her head tied up in a bandanna, called “ spring fever.” 

It was evident that the rumors which I had heard the night before 
had not reached mamma’s ears yet, and I would not ask anything 
about the Embassy reception, for fear I should hear something of the 
people who were there. I did not even wish to hear the name of any 
one mentioned. 

That afternoon Mr. ITargate’s card was brought to me with a mes- 
sage begging that I would grant him an interview ; but I would not 
descend. Sandy came tramping up to my door when his school hours 
were over, and, putting his head in, said, — 

“Hullo, Con, are you knocked out at last?” 

I could not even laugh at his slang and nonsense. I did not 
encourage him to come in, as was my usual habit. I was thankful 
that mamma’s dance did not come off until the next day, for by that 
time I should be myself again. 

When finally I did descend upon the day fixed for our dance, my 


656 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


first action was to send a note excusing myself from a coaching-trip 
that afternoon ; my second was to see Mr. Hargate, He had come to 
say something about the rumors that had come to my ears, and to take, 
if he could, part of the blame that was being heaped upon Mr. Bar- 
radale. I of course understood clearly that he had tried to protect 
me from hearing the remarks that were passing from lip to lip the 
night at the Embassy. I assured him as lightly as I could that the 
whole thing was of no moment, of no consequence : I was glad the 
dinner had been abandoned, and I was sorry anybody had thought it 
worth while to talk about it. He did not seem satisfied with my 
remarks, and finally said, bluntly, — 

“ I only wish to say one thing. I was present when a certain con- 
versation took place at the club, and anything that may have come to 
your ears has been grossly exaggerated and misrepresented. There is 
nothing that ought to discredit Mr. Barradale : any old story that has 
been raked up about him is perfectly stupid, don't you know?" 

I could not but like him the better for his loyalty and honesty, but 
it did not change the situation to me. He went on and talked for 
some time in a roundabout way of the affair until he took leave of me. 

I announced to mamma that I should not go out that afternoon, as 
I wished to save myself for our dance that night, and she was forced 
to be content with my decision and to drive out to the club-house, 
where the coaching-party was to have tea, leaving me at home. 

I could settle to nothing. I fidgeted about the rooms down-stairs, 
idly watching the florists who were bending and twisting the fragile 
stems of the spring flowers with fingers that made my heart bleed for 
the tender blossoms. Suddenly a key was fitted into the lock of the 
outside door in the big hall, which sent me hurriedly into the library 
and made me close the door behind me softly. I scarcely dared to 
breathe, so afraid was I of betraying my presence. I was relieved 
when the footsteps passed to the other rooms, and hoped that there was 
nothing to bring them to the library ; but my eye instantly fell upon a 
bundle of papers of papa’s which lay on the table. Instinct told me 
that those papers would be wanted and would be sought for in that 
room, but it was too late for me to escape. 

It was scarcely two minutes before Mr. Barradale stood in the 
room with the door shut, facing me. It was impossible to know from 
the expression of his face what his purpose was or what was passing 
in his mind. He has a way of never looking hurried or flurried. 
His manner and movements and tones are quiet to the point of ex- 
asperation. My own on this occasion were anything but quiet. Oh, 
how I wish I could go back to that April afternoon, with the sun 
slanting across the floor ! how differently I would bear my part in the 
interview ! 

It lasted only a few minutes. The result might not have been 
otherwise, but at least I should not be haunted with the reflection that 
I was hard and unmerciful. 

I don’t know exactly how it began. He made some opening 
remark, and I said I had something to say. I told him that I had 
heard about the postponement of the dinner, which was of no moment 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


657 


to me, but the reason for it was of great moment ; and that I had 
heard other things. Then I rushed on. I do not remember all that 
was said, it was so hurried and brief. I know that I almost closed 
my ears entirely when he insisted upon telling me the story of his 
affair with Mrs. Romney. I had already made up my mind about it, 
and I was determined that nothing should alter my view. It did not 
at the time make any impression upon me that he had not known in 
the beginning that Mr. Romney was living in a retreat somewhere : 
the crime, the real crime, let me state it to myself honestly, was in his 
having loved her at all. 

I remember the stern, hard expression of his face when I replied 
to his story cuttingly, scornfully, insultingly. I remember that he 
called me “ Constance,” not tenderly, either, but in a commanding, 
authoritative tone,. that compelled me to listen to his words. He said 
he had committed the “ ineffable folly” of loving me, even when I had 
shown my contempt and worldliness and had treated him with less 
courtesy than I gave to the butler or the footman. He spoke of my 
friendliness and sympathy later, and even coolly hinted that I had 
shown something warmer than sympathy in my manner, which had 
given him the right to love me, and to tell me of it, even though he 
was shorn of his good name in my eyes. 

If I had at that point quietly and in a womanly way told him the 
uselessness of his confession and given him his conge, I should feel 
better in looking back on it ; but no, I was not one whit moved by his 
avowal. I rose in my might, and, oh ! I don't know what I said. I 
dare say I told some truths which were wrung from me in bitterness 
and disgust. I told him that I should scorn to give my love and life 
to a man who had dragged his name through such an affair with a 
married woman, and who had made no better use of his life than he 
had done. I also said something about the jaded, sated emotion he 
called love. I don't know how much more of it there was. I was not 
behaving like the cool, poised, worldly girl of the nineteenth century 
I had prided myself upon being : I was merely a flesh-and-blood, 
angry, bitter woman. 

He did not protest in the least; he did not defend himself; he 
stood immovably quiet; only a set look about the mouth testified to 
the fact that my words cut. When I had said all that rushed to my 
lips, he replied calmly, while he looked me steadily in the eyes, that 
he had not asked anything of me, neither my love nor my life, and 
when I could think of him without contempt I must remember that, 
such as he was, he loved me ; that my ideal man perhaps would not be 
able to do more than that ; and then he turned, and, without any haste, 
picked up the bundle of papers from the desk as he passed it, and left 
the room and the house. I heard his steps in the stone-flagged hall 
outside; I heard the front door shut, and all was still again. 

I could not feel that our interview was over, it had been so sudden, 
so bitter. I felt that there must be something more to come ; we were 
not at the end of it yet. 

I dressed for the dance with feverish impatience. I was composed 
and cool outwardly, but a warm tint in my face betrayed the inward 
Vol. LYI.— 42 


658 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


feeling. I had never looked so well or so radiant, and my spirits rose 
as one after another of the men who came in that night testified, either 
in words or in open looks, to my appearance. 

Mamma became very impatient because papa did not come down- 
stairs early enough ; and as the evening wore away and Mr. Barradale 
did not appear, she became quite openly annoyed, and, catching sight 
of Sandy darting about outside the reception-room door, she beckoned 
to him and sent a peremptory message to both of them to come at once. 
I was wondering how we were to meet again after the afternoon in the 
library ; but the crowd would greatly help the situation. 

Mr. Hargate came in with an orchid in his button-hole, and looked 
eagerly to see if I held in my hands the corresponding flowers. I 
raised the big, soft bunch I carried to my face an instant, and smiled 
over the top of them in a way that kept liim at my side a firm fixture 
all the evening, as I intended him to be. I danced nearly the whole 
night with him. Mamma said afterwards that she supposed that I 
had some motive in making myself conspicuous with him, and that I 
had danced a great deal more than was decent in my own house, con- 
sidering how many girls were present. 

I don’t believe any one realizes the full significance there is in 
dancing a whole evening with one of John Bull’s sons ; for, no matter 
how many gods and goddesses presided at his birth, or how many 
noble and good things they bestowed upon him, the Terpsichorean 
Muse was absent, and according to preconceived American ideas his 
infant steps were therefore not bent in the way they should go, with 
disastrous results later in life. 

I knew that very likely I should have to face the consequences of 
my conduct with Mr. Hargate, and I did not care particularly. There 
was something in his devotion that soothed me and appealed to me. 
Mrs. Romney did not appear that night, nor did Mr. Bouton ; and 
about midnight papa was called away by a telegram and did not return. 

True to my prediction, there was not one of the dainty spring 
flowers in mamma’s decorations that was able to keep its eyes open or 
hold up its head very long in the glare and heat of the warm April 
night. A little after midnight I suddenly began to feel like the daffo- 
dils and jonquils that were garlanded and twined around the electric 
lights. I wanted to droop my head, close my eyes, and go away into 
some quiet, cool spot. The life had gone completely out of me, the 
color died out of my face, the sparkle and gayety fled from my lips. 
I do not know what came over me, but it seemed to me that long be- 
fore the evening was over mamma’s Easter dance was a ghastly failure. 
Mr. Hargate noticed my flagging spirits, and said, — 

“ It must be a bore to do this sort of thing so often, don’t you 
know?” 

I am afraid I was frank enough to agree with him. 

Between two and three o’clock in the morning the last guests took 
their departure, the lights were put out one by one, and the house 
settled down to the quiet and solitude befitting the sombre night hours. 
Mamma had gone up-stairs with only two grievances concerning the 
evening, which were the non-appearance of Mr. Barradale and the 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


659 


desertion of papa. I, before going, turned into the library. I had a 
fancy to look a moment about the room where I had so roughly settled 
my score that afternoon. I was terribly dispirited and fatigued. I 
threw myself into an arm-chair, with my head upon my hands, and 
went over the whole interview, the whole scene with Mr. Barradale. 
How should he and I continue to meet in the future ? Upon what 
sort of a footing could we stand that would not bring embarrassment 
to both ? And then my mind took a sudden leap to Mr. Hargate. I 
knew that I should have to face an issue with him in the next day or 
two. I had deliberately left no door through which I could escape. 
My conduct that night had given him the right to believe that I would 
turn to him no deaf ear. 

From all stand-points but one Mr. Hargate would be a match that 
would satisfy almost any American girl. He came of an old and hon- 
ored family, the head of which bore a fine title, which it was within the 
bounds of possibility might come to him. There was wealth that 
would some day undoubtedly be his. He would rise in the diplomatic 
service ; many countries and climes would be known to me, all society 
the world over would be open to me. He was honorable and a gentle- 
man, albeit a trifle dull. What more? Daniel Webster’s words came 
back : “ I was born an American, I will live an American, I will die 
an American.” 

Well, I should not have to decide it that night, luckily. I rose from 
my chair and prepared to leave the room, when I heard a step coming 
slowly down-stairs. I did not know that any one was still up in the 
house. Just then the door was suddenly opened, and I had to step 
back to avoid being struck in the face by it. 

My heart seemed to stand still as Mr. Barradale walked into the 
room. What was he seeking at that hour of the night ? and why was 
he here at all ? I wondered. 

As he came in, I noticed, as if for the first time, the fineness of his 
face, his straight, clearly-cut features, that must have come down to 
him from some ancestor. He seemed somehow as startled at seeing me 
as I was to see him, and we stared at each other dumbly. He was 
uncertain, and finally made some remark about not knowing that I 
was in the library. I was too stupid to make any reply ; I felt that 
I had already said all and more than was necessary that afternoon. 

He came slowly towards me with a curious, tense look in his eyes, 
and somehow I was a bit nervous at his approach. I dropped my 
arms and looked at him wonderingly. I don’t know what had become 
of my anger and indignation : they were, I suppose, merely in abey- 
ance for the time being. He brought his face very close to mine and 
looked into my eyes. I stood rooted to the spot. Mv heart beat to 
suffocation. I don’t believe I could have retreated had I wanted to, 
or if there had been time. I heard my name spoken once or twice 
in a tone that I had never heard before, and I was suddenly gathered 
in his arms and — yes, kissed two or three times over. Then he re- 
leased me, and, without word or look further, swiftly left the room ; 
and for the second time that day I listened to his retreating footsteps. 

When I was behind my own lock and key, I looked at my grave, 


660 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


white face and shining eyes in the mirror. There was a difference in 
them. I felt a difference in myself. I was not the same woman who 
had gone out of that room a few short hours before. I was not the 
same woman who had danced all the evening with Mr. Hargate, who 
had flippantly led him on, step by step, who had thought it possible 
only a few moments ago to make an advantageous international mar- 
riage. 

Those touches upon my lips, swift as they had been, had changed 
all the world to me. They had been placed there by one whom I had 
scorned and flouted, by one who had given them at an earlier time to 
another; but there they were, quivering and triumphant, making it 
impossible for me to do anything but bow to their sovereignty. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

TOLD BY CONSTANCE. 

The next morning I was awakened by the sparrows that were 
chattering their matins in the ivy outside the windows, and suddenly 
a returning consciousness and memory made me feel that they must 
know that Stephen Barradale had kissed me the night before in the 
library. When my maid came in later, I wondered if she could pos- 
sibly know of it too, and when I dressed and finally descended, I was 
afraid of my own footfall, I was shy of my own presence. I hurried 
past the library door, fearing to hear some accusing voice from within. 
It was a distinct ordeal to encounter the butler at the dining-room 
door, and when I entered the room upon the stroke of twelve and 
found not only mamma and Sandy but also papa present, I felt sure 
that a family caucus was being held, and that I was to be tried and 
convicted over the breakfast-table. 

I was therefore rejoiced when my entrance caused only an ordinary 
morning greeting. It was rather unusual to find papa in the house at 
this hour, though Sandy often came from school to take his luncheon 
when mamma and I breakfasted. 

Mamma was unusually perturbed upon this particular morning, 
and even Sandy looked excited. Papa had evidently just announced 
some bit of news. My alternately flushing and paling cheek excited 
no remark whatever, so I slipped into a chair and said, — 

“ What are you telling mamma and Sandy, papa?” 

“ Why, I drove over from the department to catch you at breakfast 
and to tell you that Stephen was sorry not to make his adieux in 
person to you, and he wished me to do it for him. He went off in 
such a hurry that I am afraid he left his own affairs at loose ends. I 
thought suddenly of his mare StSphane, and I want you, Sandy, to go 
around to the stable and tell them to send her here to us, and tell one 
of our grooms to look after her and see that she is exercised every 
day.” 

“ It is the most extraordinary thing I ever heard of. You never 
told me anything about this bank worry,” grumbled mamma. 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 061 

“ No, my dear, there are very many of my worries that I do not 
tell you.” 

“ Papa,” I managed to say, looking up at him, “ I don’t exactly 
understand. Where has Mr. Barradale gone? When did he go? 
And when is he coming back ?” 

“ He went this morning. I spoke to him some days ago about this 
business complication of mine. The telegram came late last night, so 
there was no time to lose. I despatched Stephen immediately : he will 
represent me and my interests.” 

“ But, papa, I still don’t understand.” I stopped. My surprise 
and secret shock were swallowed up for the moment in the bewilder- 
ment of the fact that papa would send a man so untried in business, 
so unproved in times of grave responsibility, in grave crises, as Mr. 
Barradale was. The very name of this bank business told me how 
important it would be to have a strong head and hand there to manage 
papa’s interests. I finally went on with the remark I had begun. 

“ Have you enough confidence in Mr. Barradale to trust such a 
mission to him?” I still could not part with my notions concerning 
the ability of the man who had kissed me the night before. 

Papa turned a surprised look upon me, and replied, emphatically, — 

u I have every confidence in Stephen. I found out long ago that 
he has as good a head as any man I know, and, besides that, he has 
judgment, and a cool tenacity that will fit him exactly for the service 
I want.” 

“ There, Con, you always did think Stephen a fool; now I hope 
you’re satisfied with the governor’s opinion. You didn’t even think 
much of Stephen when he knocked down Tom Budd that time : 
he ” 

But Sandy did not go on ; the indiscreet allusion to Tom Budd 
brought him up roundly. Mamma said, sharply, — 

“ Tom Budd ?” 

Even papa said, looking at Sandy intently, — 

“ I heard nothing about knocking down any Tom Budd. What 
are you alluding to, my son ?” 

Sandy suddenly remembered that he must get back to school, and 
he bolted from the room with the remark that “ he’d drop by the 
stable and have StSphane sent over.” There was quite a pause ; then 
papa said, — 

“ What was Sandy talking about just now, Constance? Evidently 
you understand about this Tom Budd. And that reminds me, Stephen 
seemed greatly disturbed last night, and terribly depressed. He went 
away not looking like himself. I’m afraid he was in some trouble, 
but he would not speak of it, and I was so hurried by the urgency of 
the situation that I did not press him.” 

Papa looked at us inquiringly, as if asking for some light on the 
subject. Mamma spoke up at once, and considerably electrified me by 
saying, — 

“ Oh, no doubt he was disturbed. I’ve thought for some time that 
he was not exactly himself, and last night I heard some rumor that he 
is in love with Mrs. Romney and is terribly jealous of this Mr. Macon 


662 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


who is following her about. I don’t know anything about it myself, 
and don’t care much, but perhaps that is what has ailed him for two 
or three days. Mrs. Romney was not present last night, neither was 
Stephen. And, Constance, was not that little Frenchman telling you 
something about all this the other night at the Embassy?” 

Papa ejaculated, “ Stuff!” 

Luckily, before I could reply, a note was brought in to mamma 
which required an answer. She rose impatiently, and said, as she left 
the room, — 

“Dear me ! I shall miss Stephen terribly.” 

As soon as she had gone, I said to papa, hoping to divert him from 
mamma’s extraordinary revelation, — 

“ Papa, how long will this business take to transact ? how long 
will Mr. Barradale be gone?” 

“Stephen is not coming back at all. He will not return to Wash- 
ington. He has gone as my business representative, and when he has 
closed up this matter, or rather when it is straightened out, I shall 
make him a liberal offer to look after my affairs permanently. He 
is just the man I want, and I shall put him in the way to make his 
fortune. I have rarely been mistaken in character and capacity.” 

Papa’s words sent the blood suddenly away from my heart. I 
stooped down to pick up my napkin ; I hoped for a moment to hide 
my face, which I feared was telltale. I raised my head at last with a 
singing in my ears and a tightening of the muscles of the throat that 
were suspicious of tears near at haud. His kisses upon my lips were 
good-by ; they were renunciation, and I had not guessed it. I had 
persistently, blindly, wilfully undervalued this man all the time he 
had been at my side, even when I had secretly succumbed to his 
influence. I had half apologized to my inner self for doing so, and 
promised myself that it was only a brief madness, for which I should 
atone by sending him adrift when mamma’s dance was over. Well, I 
had done it indeed, only to find that I was caught helplessly in my 
own trap, that I was held fast by it and could not cry out. 

I had learned, when too late, that there had been one pair of 
clear, discerning eyes that had read and known Stephen Barradale at 
his true worth. I had let the man’s temporary occupation fix my 
valuation of him, even though I gave him my heart silently. True, 
there remained the affair with Mrs. Romney; perhaps that too could 
be made to disappear if it could be viewed with papa’s eyes. But 
nothing mattered now : he was gone, and I should have to wipe from 
my lips the touch he had given them ; I should have to patch up my 
heart and go on. 

While all this flashed through mv brain and burned into my heart, 
papa had been quietly watching me. His keen, quick eyes were taking 
in some new impressions, and I was off guard for a moment. 

He had been so absorbed in the last weeks in watching anxiously 
the Houses of Congress and the fast disappearing gold reserve that he 
failed to take in the signs in his own household ; but now he was 
reading them all too fast, as I learned speedily. He did not speak : 
so I said, hesitatingly, — 


i 


JN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 603 

“ Papa, I think I have been doing this Mr. Barradale some in- 
justice.” 

“ I have no doubt of it. But, Constance, Pm rather inclined to be- 
lieve that you know something of what disturbed him ; perhaps even 
you were the ” 

He stopped a moment, and eyed me with new attention. Some 
sudden suspicion had crossed his brain. I dropped my eyes and rest- 
lessly played with a knife and fork. I wished I dared make a clean 
breast of it all to him. I had no one else to tell anything to. I knew 
that it was a myth for girls to tell their affairs to their parents, but 
papa was different. He had been my friend all my life. I remem- 
bered when he used to hunt up my dolls for me as a little bit of a girl, 
when I used to slip my hand into his and tell him all my childish 
woes. I had never had any mother to cherish me. My motherless, 
bereft condition rushed suddenly over me. I brushed away the tears 
that came to my eyes and smiled up at papa tremulously. 

“ Constance, my little girl, what is the matter? Speak up and tell 
me. I have been reading more in your face in the last ten minutes 
than you knew you were showing. Come into the library.” 

“ No, not the library, papa : Pll go to your den.” 

I was afraid of the accusing library. I felt as if every chair and 
sofa would shriek out to his ears what they had witnessed. When we 
were safely in the shelter of this den of his and the door was shut, I 
found out suddenly that I could not speak, that I had nothing to tell 
after all. I said, nervously, — 

“ Papa, I see the carriage is still waiting to take you back to the 
department : you’d better not keep it waiting any longer.” 

“ I shall always have time to hear anything you will tell me, Con- 
stance.” 

He paused, and I was still dumb. Then he sat down on the big 
leather sofa and made a coaxing gesture so like what he used to do when 
I was a little girl and obdurate, that I quickly sat down within his en- 
circling arm and leaned against him. We were both silent; then he 
began, slowly : 

“My little girl is afraid to tell me what I am trying to piece to- 
gether for myself. Last night I saw Stephen’s miserable eyes and rest- 
less manner; he was anxious to leave town, to leave upon any condi- 
tions; he would not tell me why. This morning I have seen, stupid 
and blind as I am, your evident consternation and panic when you 
heard that he had gone. Your face was telltale, though you tried 
bravely to hide it. I think I see how it is : Stephen has been thrown 
intimately into companionship with you ; he naturally learned to love 
you ; he has perhaps even told you so. You have not known what 
to do exactly. Of course you are not to blame for his loving you, 
for I feel sure that my daughter has not led on a man just to please 
her own vanity ; and Stephen has gone away sore and wounded.” 

I did not speak. Two men’s faces arose accusingly in my mind. 
Papa had guessed a good deal, but not all. I was appalled by his 
acuteness. I could not speak. He waited a moment, then said, — 

“Have you lost confidence in me, Constance? Can you not trust 


664 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


me as you used to do in your childish days ? I am more ready now 
than ever to help you.” 

I sprang up, and said, hurriedly, “ Papa, I will tell you everything. 
May I go back and give you an account of this whole matter from the 
time I came from Europe? Have you time to listen?” He nodded 
a quick assent, and I went on. 

“ I will tell you everything, and you may scold me as you used to 
do, but you must help me.” 

I went back to my early acquaintance with Mr. Barradale. I told 
papa how he had appeared to me in the menial position he held, and 
how arrogant and rude I had been, especially when I learned that we 
were living in his grandfather’s house, into which he had precipitated 
us. Papa had not known this, and remarked, thoughtfully, — 

“ I wonder I did not guess this long ago. It was a strange idea, 
his suggesting this house.” 

Then I went on and told of Sandy’s unfortunate escapade and of 
Mr. Barradale bringing him home intoxicated the night of the theatre- 
party, while we were at supper, and of my going to Sandy’s room and 
finding it all out, and of the cut on Mr. Barradale’s hand which I had 
dressed and bound up. Papa interrupted again : he was deeply con- 
cerned about this part of the story, and thought that he should have 
been told of it long ago. 

I then told him how Mr. Barradale and I had become good friends, 
and how I had soon found out that he loved me, but I was so sure that 
it was a thing I could never return, or encourage, that I felt entirely 
safe. 

So things had gone on until the night of the reception at the Em- 
bassy, when I had heard for the first time rumors of the hateful story 
concerning Mr. Barradale and Mrs. Romney. I stopped at this point 
and hesitated. Papa said, — 

“ I begin to understand. That was only the other night, when you 
insisted on coming home early and snubbed Stephen. What is this 
story ?” 

I told him the story in plain words. I told him the worst I had 
heard, and waited for him to make some comment. He said, merely, — 

“ Go on.” 

I passed over without mention my own wretched feelings of anger 
and misery, and went on to my interview with Mr. Barradale in the 
library the day before, when I had taxed him with this story, which 
he had not denied. I told of his confession of love to me, and I re- 
peated all the harsh and unmerciful words of scorn I had uttered. I 
noticed that papa bit his lip and winced. I said, — 

“Papa, you don’t approve of me; I know you don’t.” 

“ You could have been more gentle, Constance : those were harsh 
expressions to fall from your lips.” 

“ I knew, papa, that of course you would think so; you men 
always regard another man’s peccadilloes with great leniency. Would 
you have had me fall into Mr. Barradale’s arms after hearing such a 
tale?” I was trying to strengthen my position. 

Papa did not answer; he seemed to be thinking; then he said, — 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 665 

“ Well, Constance, this is not all. Finish your tale. Did he de- 
fend himself?” 

u No, papa, he did not defend himself : he seemed to grow cold 
and self-contained. He said I was hard and severe, that I must re- 
member that such as he was he loved me, and that perhaps when I 
came across my ideal man I would find that even he could do no more 

for me, and then he walked out of the room, and ” 

“ And ? Goon.” 

“ Well, there’s no more; that is, nothing that would interest you,” 
I said, lamely, not holding up my head. 

“ And you have not seen him since?” persisted papa, relentlessly. 
“ Yes ; after the dance last night, when everybody had gone to bed, 
he came down-stairs and walked in upon me in the library. I was 
just about to go up-stairs, and he said a few words, and ” I hesi- 

tated ; then I looked up into papa’s eyes, and said, simply, — 

“ He kissed me.” 

“ Oh, he kissed you, did he ?” 

There was the swiftest possible smile around papa’s lips as he 
echoed my words. 

His smile nettled me. He noticed it, and said, — 

“ I am smiling because you have been so careful to throw a strong 
light upon one side of this tale, while you have kept the other side in 
shadow; but I can see through a millstone for all that, Constance. 
Stephen kissed you, you say. And then ?” 

“ Simply nothing more, papa : he walked out of the room and out 
of the house.” 

There was a pause, while I watched papa anxiously. He got up 
from the sofa and walked up and down once or twice with his hands 
behind him. Finally I said, uneasily, — 
u Have you nothing to say ?” 

He stopped before me and lifted my face a moment and looked at 
me sadly. 

“ My little girl is my little girl no longer. What can I do to help 
her ?” 

“ Nothing, papa: you see he is simply gone, and I ” 

“ My daughter wants him back. Yes, I see perfectly.” 

We regarded each other for a moment ; then papa said, seriously, — 
“ Constance, your conduct in this whole matter, from your own 
showing, has been a curious mixture of impulse and motive. You 
have been both romantic and heartless, both humble and arrogant. 
You have not seen things with your usual clear eyes; you have not 
shown the judgment I should have expected from you. I am afraid 
my daughter has not been entirely honest in her treatment of this man.” 

“ Perhaps not in the beginning, papa; but do you attach no im- 
portance to this story about Mrs. Romney?” I asked, anxiously. 

“ Well, such things are always a serious detriment to a man ; but I 
cannot but think from your account of the story that Stephen came 
out of it well. From a man’s stand-point he behaved honestly, even 
honorably. I do not impeach him. Still, at the same time, it is as 
well that he is not here to see these eyes of yours, child.” 


666 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


Papa paused, and I, with a swift memory of the harsh words I 
had spoken the day before, and of the kisses which had meant re- 
nunciation, felt a quiver which made me drop my head into my hands 
and sent the tears trickling through my fingers. 

Papa stroked my hair, and said, — 

“ How like a woman you are, Constance ! Don’t grieve so, child. 
It is well for Stephen to go and prove himself to us, and then, per- 
haps ” He broke off, and said, with a sigh, — 

“ How much you are growing to look like your mother !” 


CHAPTER XV. 

TOLD BY CONSTANCE. 

During the next few days that succeeded Stephen Barradale’s 
departure I could not prevent a feverish expectation that something 
would happen which would change the situation for me. Telegrams 
came every day to papa from him, and long business letters too; but 
day after day went by, and I began to realize, with dull surprise, that 
everything was actually over, that nothing would ever come to me 
voluntarily from him again. Papa eyed me in a kindly way, and 
would pass over to me these business letters, the contents and drift of 
which I understood ; for papa had gone into the whole complication, 
and I was able to understand what Mr. Barradale was accomplishing, 
and I followed as eagerly as papa did the slow and sure unravelling 
of the tangle. Little did Stephen know what pair of eyes was reading 
the statements and figures which to the uninitiated would have been 
unmeaningly dull and technical, but which to my eyes furnished read- 
ing of the most intense sort. 

As time went on I became dispirited and languid, and papa began 
slyly to tease me in his efforts to rally me. If he saw me poring over 
a book, which was a continual occupation with me, for I was much 
given to philosophical reading just then, he would ask, “ Is it ‘ Mariana 
in the Moated Grange’ to-day, Constance?” and I would smile dis- 
mally at the insinuation. 

Once, after several days of unusual lassitude upon my part, papa 
came into the house and startled the blood into my face by announcing, 
quietly,— 

“ I have sent for Stephen, Constance.” 

“ Oh, papa, no !” I cried, in consternation. 

“ Well,” he returned, coolly, “I cannot see my daughter wearing 
herself out in fretting. She is losing her freshness and her amiability, 
and I suppose the only cure will be Stephen’s presence.” 

“ Now, papa,” I cried, with returning spirit, “ you have done 
nothing of the kind ; you have not sent for Stephen. I don’t want 
him, and I am not fretting for him, and I mean to prove it to you.” 

Papa laughed. He had effectually frightened and roused me. I 
determined that I would be myself again, and that not even his eyes 
should detect anything of my inner feelings. Ever after that no one, 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


667 


not even papa, saw me when I was not apparently in the very best of 
spirits. It made no difference what I was, or how great the let-down, 
when I was behind the lock and key of my own door. But I allowed 
myself no indulgences, no repinings, in public. I eagerly went every- 
where and did everything that this aftermath of a season brought in 
its train. 

It was during these days that I had to face a serious interview with 
Mr. Hargate ; and if ever a young woman was punished for her vanity 
and folly, I was that young woman. I felt myself utterly dishonest 
and criminal as I listened to his straightforward avowal and knew that 
I had nothing to reply, that I could not even feign ignorance as an 
excuse. I needed no worse punishment than the look on his face 
when it dawned upon him that I was saying no ; and I needed no 
greater rebuke when he did not utter one word of reproach. But 
there was an expression in his eyes as he looked at me steadily that 
told me I had forfeited some part of the respect of one manly man. I 
went about for days possessed with a most horrible, hangdog feeling, 
and I was almost tempted to call him back and accept him just to 
regain my self-respect. 

Mamma got hold of it somehow, and I thought that I was never 
going to hear the last of it. She recalled to me the conspicuous figure 
I had made of myself all during the spring, particularly the night of 
our dance, when I had scarcely spoken to any other man. She seemed 
to have the most wonderful memory in enumerating the quantities of 
flowers I had accepted ; she knew all about every branch of his family, 
and all about their estates ; she counted every advantage he possessed, 
and when she had failed to move me or to impress me she asked, 
disgustedly, — 

“ What more do you want, in all conscience ?” 

“Mamma, I am more humble. I want much less than Mr. Har- 
gate can give me.” 

“ Well, I expect you’ll get it,” she remarked, dryly. 

It was now the first of June, and people were beginning to take 
flight in all directions, and mamma was already talking of summer 
plans ; but Congress seemed to have no idea of adjourning, and papa 
said that if he got away at all it would be late in the season. I there- 
fore decided that I should remain with him, no matter how long and 
tedious the time might be. 

It was at the close of a long, warm day that papa came home from 
the department bringing letters from Mr. Barradale announcing that 
the complication in the Northwest had been at last satisfactorily 
straightened out. A final meeting of the bank directors had voted for 
papa’s measure ; the president of the bank had resigned, together with 
those of the directors who had supported him, and the whole thing 
was practically at an end. Papa was evidently relieved, and said to 
me, — 

“ What do you think now of my estimate of Stephen ?” 

I did not reply, and he went on, — 

“ Stephen writes me that he has been offered a position, and asks 
my advice about accepting it. But I want his services still further. 


668 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


I am utterly unable to handle my private affairs while I am here in 
office, and Stephen must do it for me.” 

“ You will need to consult him in person, will you not?” I asked, 
carelessly. 

“No; it can be done by letter, I think,” replied papa, with a faint 
smile around the corners of his mouth. 

The days that followed were deadly dull; the only thing that 
rippled their monotony was the announcement of three bits of news, 
which were the last gossip shot at the departing, dispersing smart set. 
The first was that Roger Macon had left town with all his fire-eating 
Virginia blood up, and it was thought that the ever-convenient and 
much-mentioned Mr. Romney was in danger of his life. Another bit 
of the news was that Mrs. Romney had just leased her house advan- 
tageously for a term of years and was going abroad, to be gone indefi- 
nitely. The third was to the effect that Mr. Bouton had been recalled 
by his government and had sailed for home. These three events were 
the direct sequels to Mr. Barradale’s little conversation at the club 
when he broke up the dinner that was to have been given me. 

It is astonishing how I viewed the whole occurrence now, — how ab- 
solutely into the background the affair of Mrs. Romney had retreated, 
and how different a man Mr. Barradale appeared to me. I wished 
that I might be emancipated enough from custom and tradition to send 
him one word, a word of apology for my rough speeches, — no more 
than that. I remembered the letter that the Disagreeable Man had 
written which he never sent, and I was tempted to imitate it. 

One morning I was in papa’s den waiting for an announcement of 
breakfast. I was sitting at his desk. It was scattered over with 
papers, and among them there was a business letter to Mr. Barradale, 
the loose sheets of which lay directly under my eye, together with a 
memorandum I had made for papa which was to go into this very 
letter. Papa had left it open upon the desk, intending perhaps to add 
something to it later. Evidently he had not meant to take it over to 
the department. I was thinking of it, and also I was still possessed 
with the idea of imitating the letter of the Disagreeable Man. I idly 
pulled a sheet of paper towards me and began to write as my wan- 
dering fancy took me. I entitled it 

“The Ideal Man, The Other Man, and the Foolish Virgin. A 
New Arrangement of the Old Parable.” 

I wrote on and on. I quite warmed to my work. I was much 
pleased with my Foolish Virgin ; but at last, before I finished it, an 
interruption came in the shape of the footman, who said that mamma 
was waiting breakfast, and would I please come down-stairs. I hastily 
slipped my Parable between the loose sheets of papa’s letter ; it would 
be safe there until I should come back, and if any eye met it, it would 
be an unmeaning jumble. 

We dawdled unusually over breakfast that day. Sandy came as 
usual for his luncheon and went back to school. Afterwards I ran up 
to papa’s den to slip my scribbled sheet into my gown preparatory to 
taking it to my own rooms. When my eyes swept over papa’s table, 
consternation seized me : not a scrap nor a vestige of any papers, 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


669 


bundles, or letters was to be seen anywhere. I looked around the room 
hastily. Everything was in strict order. I pressed the bell-button 
with sudden energy. When a maid appeared I asked her if she had 
removed any of the papers from the desk. She said that she had not, 
but that while we were at breakfast the messenger had come from 
the department with an order from the Secretary to send him all the 
papers and letters that were on the desk in his private room. They 
had all been gathered up, with a rubber band around them, and de- 
livered to the messenger. 

I ran down-stairs and summoned a servant. I despatched him to 
the stable with instructions to have my cart sent around and a groom 
to accompany me. Mamma said, — 

“ Why, Constance, it is not two o’clock, and the sun is terribly hot : 
where are you going at this hour ?” 

I don’t know what I replied. I had but one idea, to get possession 
of my idiotic scribble which had gone to the department and would 
come under papa’s eye, or perhaps be seen by his private secretary. It 
was not long before I was driving my spirited young horse over the 
warm, soft pavements. When we reached the department I hesitated. 
I disliked to enter the building and encounter curious eyes, but I must 
do it, and lose no time. I was soon standing at the entrance of papa’s 
anteroom, and in another minute I was asking for him. I was met with 
the reply that papa was attending a meeting of the Cabinet. I had for- 
gotten that it was Cabinet day. I asked for his private secretary, and 
was told that he had just gone out with some important papers. I 
then asked to be allowed to go into papa’s private room and wait for 
him ; but there was a decided demur to this : no one was allowed in that 
room unless invited by the Secretary himself, except, of course, his 
private secretary. I thereupon had to disclose my identity, and was 
reluctantly allowed to enter at last. I sat down at the desk and began 
to scan all the papers that were within range of my eye. I finally be- 
came nervous as I nowhere saw the least sign of what I was seeking. 
I rapidly turned over everything that lay on the desk, but nothing re- 
warded me. I opened various drawers. It was in vain. I waited 
impatiently till three o’clock ; then a messenger came in to say that 
the Secretary had sent word that he should not be back again that day : 
he had gone to the Capitol, whither his private secretary had gone 
also. Upon this there was nothing to do but to return home. 

The wildest feeling of dread had taken possession of me. My 
idiotic Parable might now be between the sheets of papa’s business 
letter to Mr. Barradale, which perhaps was lying in the post-office or 
already on its way West to him. This was too unspeakably dreadful 
for me to dwell upon. I tried to turn my thoughts elsewhere and to 
find a thousand ways out of the situation. I thought the day would 
never end. I made a copy from memory of my Foolish Virgin. I 
wanted to recall the full extent of my idiocy. 

I drove out in the late afternoon with mamma, just to help pass 
the time until I could see papa. I thought dinner would never be 
over and the servants never be gone. Papa looked awfully tired, 
but at last he rose to go to the library. I lighted his cigar for 


670 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


him and followed him. I shut the library door, and asked, breath- 
lessly, — 

“ Papa, you sent a messenger to-day for the papers that were on 
your desk up-stairs : what did you do with the papers and the letter 
when you got them ?” 

Papa looked at me in surprise, and said, — 

“ Why, let me see; I sent for them because there was an important 
paper in one of the bundles, and there was a letter to Stephen I forgot 
to mail this morning. My secretary brought them to meat the Capitol 
after the Cabinet meeting; the paper I sent in to the committee, and 
the letter I mailed. I don’t think that there was anything else. Why 
do you ask ?” 

‘‘Did you read over this letter to Mr. Barradale?” 

“ Why, I don’t remember. I have been bothered to death to-day, 
and I don’t know whether I read the letter or not : I’m under the 
impression that I did not.” 

“ But, papa, try to think : was there anything among the sheets in 
my handwriting?” 

“ Yes, there was something in your scribble, but it was a memo- 
randum, I think, that you made for me.” 

“ Oh, papa, do try to be more certain ; think as hard as you can. 
Was there no loose sheet with a long rigmarole on it in my hand- 
writing among any of those papers to-day?” 

“ I did not see any. I took the sheets of my letter to Stephen and 
folded them just as they were, with your memorandum on top. I 
sealed the letter on the floor of the Senate at Jessop’s desk. I called a 
page and sent it to the Senate post-office. The other papers I ran my 
eye over and gave back to my secretary, and he afterwards took them 
to the department. But why all this anxiety, Constance ? What has 
happened ?” 

I stared blankly at papa. I was entirely undone. What should I 
do? My folly was inconceivable. The queer chance that had caught 
my folly in its toils was also inconceivable. 

Gradually I told papa, lamely, shamefacedly, of my Parable of the 
Foolish Virgin, of having left it between the sheets of his letter to 
Stephen while I went to. breakfast, and of my finding the whole con- 
tents of the desk gone on my return. I told of going to the depart- 
ment and ransacking his desk there, and I wound up with, — 

“ I suppose it has gone steaming out West by this time. I shall 
never hold up my head again.” 

As I unfolded my tale, papa’s tired look vanished, his face lightened, 
and finally, when I wound up my recital, he was actually smiling with 
quiet and intense amusement. 

“ Papa,” I exclaimed, “ I believe that you have that wretched thing 
in your pocket this minute and you are teasing me.” 

“No, Constance, I have not even seen it. If I had, though, I am 
not sure that I should have foiled its very evident mission. So my 
little girl thought she would be literary, — thought she would improve 
on the old Bible version of the Ten Virgins? I wonder that you 
don’t see the exquisite humor of the situation.” 


IN SIGHT OF THE GODDESS. 


67 L 

“ You are utterly heartless to laugh at me. I’ve made a fool of 
myself, and I don’t think it is funny at all.” 

“ But, Constance, are you sure that Stephen will apply it ? — that 
he will understand it?” 

“ Oh, yes, there’s no chance of his not understanding it ; and he 
knows my handwriting. He will think it a scheme on my part. What 
shall I do?” 

“Why, stand by it, Constance; show your courage; whatever 
comes, meet it and bear it as my daughter should. There is no shame 
in loving a man ; there is no shame in atoning for a mistake. He 
will write to you, or I am much mistaken, and then you must be 
honest with him.” 

“And, papa, you don’t mind? You don’t object?” 

“Yes, I shall mind very much,” he said, putting his hand on my 
head. 

“But, papa, suppose that he doesn’t understand or write?” 

“ But he will. Suppose, Constance, that you show me this remark- 
able production of yours, and let me judge. You say you copied it 
from memory.” 

I went hurriedly and brought the obnoxious writing, and handed 
it anxiously to papa. He put on his glasses and read : 

“ The Ideal Man, The Other Man, and the Foolish Virgin. A 
New Arrangement of the Old Parable. 

“A foolish Virgin, with lamp unlighted and eyes blinded by dark- 
ness, went forth to meet the bridegroom. In the recesses of her mind 
a glorious vision lay, which was like the kingdom of heaven. This 
vision was a figure, radiant and godlike. In his outstretched hands 
he held all the gifts that were blest and goodly in her sight. Under 
his feet were obstacles that had been trodden down to earth ; they 
were poverty, lack of purpose, untoward circumstances, and failure. 
Upon his brow were written, in letters of gold, success, power, riches. 
This radiant vision led her on and on, through all the turnings of her 
groping way, and when she came to the narrow opening where he 
would stand with welcoming arms in the broad light of day, lo ! he 
was not there. She rubbed her eyes to see the better, and held her 
unlighted lamp close to her breast; but her half-blinded vision saw 
no godlike form. Instead there stood before her a suppliant, almost 
empty-handed, but with shining eyes. Partly crushed under his feet 
were success, ambition, and purpose. Upon his brow, in plain letters 
of ivory, there was but one single word, in his outstretched hands there 
was but one single gift, and in his eyes there was one steady light. It was 
Love. The Virgin turned. She heeded not the one gift he offered ; 
she heeded not the outstretched arms. She did not know this stranger. 
She fled back by the dark and winding way she had come : then she 
heard a voice sternly rebuking. It said to her, ‘ Thou art blind : 
light thy lamp; go forth again: thou hast met an angel unawares.’ 
The golden vision was suddenly swept from her mind. She saw 
instead, with awakening heart, the shining eyes, the outstretched arms, 
the one word in ivory. She trimmed her lamp, and with quick and 
eager steps hurried once more through the winding way, which was 


672 


IN SIGHT OF T1IE GODDESS. 


no longer dark. When the narrow opening was reached, lo ! the door 
was shut. The Virgin knocked, and cried, ‘ Open unto me/ but a 
voice came back and said, ‘ Verily, I say unto you, I know you not/ 
She tremblingly said again, with imploring accents, — 

“ ‘ The Angel of love awaits me. I pray you open unto me/ 

“But the same voice uttered again the words, ‘Verily, I say unto 
you, I know you not/ Still she called, — 

“ Deny me not ; I have awakened to love, I have atoned / ” 

Papa took off his glasses, and said, — 

“If Stephen finds this between the leaves of my letter to him, he 
will be dense indeed if he does not understand. If I were in his 
shoes it would bring me from the ends of the earth.” 

I covered my face in shame, and said, — 

“ I did not know how horribly it betrays me until now.” 
******** 
The next few days were feverishly lived through. I made papa 
search every paper that had been sent from his desk to the department ; 
I made him question both the messenger and his private secretary ; but 
it was in vain. I was afraid of every letter that was delivered at the 
house ; I was secretly more afraid when none were delivered at all. 

At the end of three days it came. It was no letter, no long- 
looked-for, secretly-coveted letter. It was short, it was terse ; it was 
one sentence enclosed in a yellow envelope and stamped “ Western 
Union.” It read, — 

“To Miss Constance Childs, Washington, D.C. 

“I leave for Washington immediately, to claim fulfilment of the 
Parable. 

“Stephen Barradale.” 


THE END. 


MEDICAL EDUCATION. 


673 


MEDICAL EDUCATION, 

AND THE EDUCATION OF MEDICAL MEN 

A VERY gratifying tendency has marked the development of the ' 
medical profession in the last generation. The slough of man- 
nerisms, the formal dress, the owl-like solemnity, have been thrown 
off, and the physician, by his own choice, is being judged more by his 
actual attainments than by external appearances. Thirty years ago, a 
bald head, a white beard, and a long frock-coat were as much a part 
of the physician’s equipment as his diploma. Now, on the other hand, 
it is no infrequent occurrence for an elderly man of real ability, and 
modern in his methods of practice, to lose a patient through the fear 
that he may not be fully abreast of the times. What can be further 
from the old traditions than a leading surgeon lounging about in an 
outing shirt and blue belt, or a distinguished physician playing polo? 
Yet these amusements are simply a relaxation from the tension of 
professional study. One of the best indications that the people are 
learning to judge their medical advisers by their merits is the fact 
that the advertising physicians are being driven to the wall, despite 
the most specious extrinsic evidences of success that the shrewdest 
business methods can produce. 

Thus the education of medical students is becoming a more and 
more important question, not ouly to those who might suffer at the 
hands of incompetent physicians, but to prospective practitioners. The 
domain of medicine has attracted many drones who have thought that 
“ doctoring” was a lucrative and easy business, and who have apparently 
argued that, since the man who buys a house at the lowest price will 
receive the highest interest on his investment, so the student who 
enters a medical college with the least preparation and who obtains his 
diploma in the shortest time has shown the greatest acumen. Let me 
digress so far as to remark that the use of the verb “to doctor” is the 
shibboleth of the profession, and that the man who “ doctors” people 
is apt to be known as “ Doc.” While every honorable career ought 
to be open to the humblest, the man who attempts to evade the moral 
requirements for admission to the profession by beginning his medical 
studies without proper qualification is guilty of the same kind of dis- 
honesty as the one who seeks to be naturalized and to usurp the privi- 
leges of citizenship without conforming to the laws of naturalization. 
The writer met, as a student, a young man who had decided that it was 
more desirable to wield the surgeon’s knife than the razor and shears, 
and to dispense medicines than bay rum and cosmetics. But this youth 
had not the slightest idea of wasting time on the spelling-book and 
grammar, or even in acquiring the rudimentary culture which depends 
on mere personal cleanliness. Fortunately, this medical career was 
cut short by the intervention of the faculty. On the other hand, some 
of the best and most respected physicians have worked their way up 
Vol. LV1.— 43 


674 


MEDICAL EDUCATION. 


from humble occupations by meetiug honestly the preliminary-require- 
ments of their profession. 

In no vocation has there been a more rapid advance than in medi- 
cine during the last half-century, and it is significant that the major 
part of this advance has been due, not to the observation and experience 
of the routine practitioner, but to the researches of scientific men who 
have been sneered at as theorists and who have brought to bear on their 
professional work the results of scholastic training entirely foreign to 
the scope of instruction in medical schools a generation ago. What, 
for example, could seem farther removed from the domain of practical 
surgery than the investigation of little moving plants that are found 
in decomposing animal and vegetable matter? Yet the study of the 
habits of growth of these microscopic weeds, of the soils on which 
they thrive, and of the poisons which prevent their development, has 
revolutionized surgery, and has almost banished from the operating- 
room the fear of suppuration, of gangrene, of erysipelas, and of other 
forms of blood-poisoning. The recognition of the rdle of vegetable 
germs in the production of these untoward results of surgical inter- 
ference, and the development of antiseptic methods of surgery, have 
rendered it possible to operate on the brain, spinal cord, stomach, in- 
testine, and other abdominal and pelvic viscera, and even the heart. 
Fourteen years ago the best medical and surgical skill of the country 
could not save the lamented Garfield from death by blood-poisoning. 
To-day the most unpretending surgeon, treating the poorest laborer, 
would be severely condemned, if not actually accounted guilty of mal- 
practice, if he used the same methods. Thousands of women who would 
have been doomed to chronic invalidism a generation ago are now re- 
stored to health by operations attended by an average mortality of about 
two per cent. ; whereas the same operations undertaken without anti- 
septic precautions would result in the death of nine-tenths of the victims. 
Thanks to the enforcement of rules of health, based on the same study 
of bacteriology, we no longer witness the devastation of such epidemics 
as were common even ten years ago, while for the first time in medical 
history cholera has been checked in its onward march to the west. In 
internal medicine, the careful use of the microscope, of methods of 
chemical analysis in the examination of the processes of digestion, as- 
similation, and waste, and the employment of various mechanical aids, 
— suggested not by medical studies, but by those of purely educational 
institutions, — have more than doubled the resources of the physician, 
though there are not the same brilliant results to be seen as in the de- 
partments of surgery and of public sanitation. 

Until comparatively recent times it has been possible for any man 
or woman not absolutely illiterate to graduate after two years’ attend- 
ance at a medical college in good standing, if not in the highest rank. 
Twelve years ago there was no medical school in the country that re- 
quired more than three years’ study ; only a quarter of the total number 
made any educational demands on the incoming student, and more than 
half graduated after an attendance on two sessions of twenty weeks 
each. In 1893 the country possessed one hundred and thirty-six 
medical colleges of all schools. Twelve— or nine per cent. — required 


MEDICAL EDUCATION. 


675 


four years’ attendance on lecture courses averaging two months longer 
than corresponding sessions twelve years ago, while only four schools 
— or less than three per cent. — continued to graduate after two years’ 
attendance. 

The student of medicine spends one or two years and several hun- 
dred dollars in excess of the average law student. In dissecting, in 
his work in the chemical and bacteriological laboratories, by his contact 
with patients, and by the inevitable fatigue of study, he incurs a decided 
risk that the former does not. The law student usually combines his 
theoretical study with practical experience in an office where he receives 
a moderate compensation, sometimes enough for his entire support. 
The medical student, on the other hand, has not more than one chance 
in ten of serving a desirable apprenticeship either in a hospital or with 
a private practitioner. If he is so fortunate as to secure a hospital 
appointment, it involves the expenditure of an additional year of hard 
work, for which the compensation is board and washing besides the ex- 
perience obtained. The graduate who secures a position as assistant to 
some senior practitioner sometimes pays for the privilege, sometimes 
works gratuitously, sometimes secures a few crumbs of practice or 
receives a salary about equivalent to that of the undergraduate law 
student. 

A theological student spends about the same amount of time as a 
medical student, but his work is devoid of the actual hardships which 
the latter encounters, life is made pleasant for him in numerous little 
ways, and, if need be, his course is tree of expense and he is practically 
insured against want for the remainder of his life. The requirements 
for teachers and members of other professions vary so much according 
to the grade of work undertaken that no general comparison is possible. 

Although it must be apparent that the technical training of the 
medical student is relatively more arduous than that leading to most 
other professions, there are both general and special reasons why a broad 
preliminary education should be insisted upon. A greater weight of 
individual responsibility rests on the physician than on any other pro- 
fessional man. The minister and teacher are, so to speak, undergoing 
constant examination. There may be a discrepancy between their 
emoluments and their actual value to the community, but their influence 
in private is usually on a par with their merit, so that lack of ability can 
rarely result in harm to others. The lawyer may make mistakes, but 
legal provision is made for their rectification. The physician must 
necessarily work in private, even in secret. A mistake on his part can 
rarely be discovered, and almost never rectified, though it may be pun- 
ished. Moreover, the physician who is really guilty of malpractice 
and who does the most harm in the long run is not the man who oc- 
casionally blunders at an operation or in setting a broken limb, but he 
who fails to discover a kidney trouble, who treats with medicines, ac- 
cording to some time-honored method, a condition requiring surgical 
interference, who gives a medicine which is allowable when another 
would be preferable, who obeys the letter of the laws of health boards, 
but disregards the spirit of nature’s laws concerning the transmission 
of disease. It is right to demand that the man who is to be the confi- 


676 


MEDICAL EDUCATION. 


dential adviser of families, who is to be admitted to homes at all times 
and on widely different occasions, should be something more than an 
artisan. The physician should be a man of refinement and liberal 
culture. He must be able not only to write a healing prescription, but 
to write it correctly. He will meet in his professional capacity persons 
of all grades of intelligence; it will be a mortification to himself and 
a source of dissatisfaction to his patients if he cannot meet the best of 
these on their own level. 

The various branches of natural philosophy have a practical bearing 
on medicine. The vital processes depend upon mechanical and chemical 
laws, and cannot be thoroughly understood unless the underlying prin- 
ciples are comprehended. In wounds of the chest, we must bear in 
mind the application of pneumostatics and pneumodynamics, or our 
treatment will be a failure. In the use of the stomach-tube, in the 
evacuation of fluid from the chest, and in various other practical prob- 
lems, the principles of hydrostatics and hydrodynamics must be kept 
clearly in view. A familiarity with mechanics is necessary, first of all 
for the understanding of the action of muscles or bones and joints, 
and later in order to have a clear conception of the muscular pull upon 
fragments of bone and of the forces to be applied in the reduction and 
retention of fractured and dislocated limbs. The use of the weight and 
pulley in fractures of the thigh, the correction of club-foot, spinal de- 
formity, etc., call for such an understanding of purely mechanical prin- 
ciples as is included in the curriculum of no medical school. Optics 
and acoustics can be applied in almost every detail to the anatomy, 
physiology, and treatment of the eye, ear, and throat. 

The diagnosis of diseases of the kidney depends almost entirely on 
chemical and microscopical proficiency, while our rapidly increasing 
ability to deal with the stomach and liver is due to the researches of 
competent chemists who have been able to act upon hints which would 
not attract the attention of one who relied solely on a medical educa- 
tion. In the proper choice of new drugs, and in dealing with cases of 
poisoning, other chemical knowledge is demanded. 

Electricity is no longer considered a very important adjunct to the 
healing art. Yet a thorough knowledge of its principles would have 
spared the chagrin of the acknowledgment that the electrical therapeu- 
tics of the medical profession for the last thirty years has been almost 
worthless. In the galvano-cautery, the incandescent light for illumi- 
nating various cavities of the body, and the electro-magnet for extract- 
ing foreign bodies from the eye, we have electrical instruments of 
decided value, and competent medical electricians are now extending 
the legitimate use of this great natural force. 

Biology, except in its branches of physiology and bacteriology, is 
taught in few medical schools. Even botany, which would seem to be 
necessary on account of the large number of medicinal plants, is almost 
entirely neglected, so that a drug, even to a well-qualified physician, 
is simply a collection of activities, not a material thing. A full under- 
standing of some of the general principles of biology would prevent 
some of the present misconception as to the action of blood serum, anti- 
toxines, etc., which are now engrossing so much attention. In a paper 


MEDICAL EDUCATION. 


677 


in the Popular Science Monthly the writer has pointed out the fallacy 
of attempting to inoculate against such a disease as consumption, whose 
poison does not exhaust the soil of the body against the growth of 
other crops of bacteria, as is the case with the once-occurring diseases 
with skin eruptions. Another example is found in the thyroid body 
of the neck, which has something to do with the elaboration of organic 
substances carried in the circulation. Thus it is reasonable to suppose 
that when the thyroid is diseased — notably in certain forms of goitre 
— its function may be partially met by administering the extracts of 
thyroids taken from healthy animals. But medical men have argued 
that if we can thus supply the active principle of the thyroid we may 
find similar uses for extracts from the spinal cord, brain, heart, etc. 
These sophists overlook the fact that, while the extract of an organ may 
truly represent its chemical output, nothing can be squeezed from dead 
tissue to take the place of its nervous energy or vital activity 

A moderate acquaintance with languages is of great value to the 
physician, though not in the way which would suggest itself to the 
casual observer. It is a good rule that it is not worth while to have 
dealings with a person who will not learn the language of the country 
where he has taken up a permanent abode. Foreigners undoubtedly 
have a preference for physicians of their own nationality, but the prefer- 
ence is not a very strong one, and it is based on an instinctive patriotism 
rather than on the mere convenience of communication. The real 
value of modern languages to the physician is that he may be able to 
follow the progress of medical science in other countries. 

A knowledge of Latin and Greek roots is essential to every physi- 
cian. True, this knowledge is usually acquired by memorizing tech- 
nical terms in their Anglicized forms, but it would probably prove to 
be an ultimate gain if the medical student spent six months or a year 
in studying the classical languages in their original form. Prescrip- 
tions are written in Latin ; the names of almost all drugs and parts 
of the body are either genuine Latin words or are Latinized from 
modern sources. Diseases and modern operative methods are for the 
most part designated by Greek terms. Dr. John A. Wyeth has esti- 
mated that the medical student is confronted with a technical vocabulary 
of about eighteen thousand Latin derivatives and about twenty-one 
thousand from the Greek. The task of learning these words, for- 
midable as it may seem at first thought, is not a difficult matter for one 
with a fair classical education, for the same root occurs over and over, 
with various prefixes and endings, and combined now with one and 
now with another companion root. 

Although it is an easy matter to demonstrate the need of prelimi- 
nary training for medical students, it is more difficult to determine the 
exact amount to be required. At one extreme is the view of the so- 
called practical men, who would reduce the medical course to the level 
of an apprenticeship to a trade, requiring nothing of matriculates. 
Most medical schools now demand the equivalent of a common-school 
education ; some few go so far as to require a high-school education. 
Johns Hopkins requires a scientific collegiate training, and it is 
probable that in the near future one or two medical schools which 


678 


HELIOPOLIS. 


make no pretensions to being post-graduate institutions, as does Johns 
Hopkins, will also require a collegiate degree of their matriculates. A 
compromise must be made between the minimum, which is a disgrace 
to the profession, and the maximum, which, without some scheme 
for combining the collegiate and medical courses, would compel the 
student to pass the best years of his life in mere preliminaries. In 
discussing the subject of general education we must not be misled by 
mere names. Most first-class city high schools offer courses in modern 
languages, sciences, and advanced geometry, which are duplicated in 
colleges. Considering the increase in educational standards, the young 
man of the present, on completing a four years’ academic course, is as 
well schooled as his father who holds an A.B. from some celebrated 
Eastern college. When we take into consideration the advantages of 
public libraries, museums, art galleries, botanical gardens, etc., and the 
combination of study and social pleasure afforded by so many literary, 
scientific, and technical societies, and even the influence of Chautauqua 
circles and University Extension courses, we can assert that the person 
whose scholastic education ceases with the academy can keep pretty well 
in touch with the one who spends an additional four years at college. 

Thus it would seem that for the present the medical colleges of the 
country should unite in demanding a high-school education of their 
matriculates. Such an education can be had in almost every village 
of the land, and in many cities corresponding instruction is given in 
the evening for the benefit of those engaged during the day. In the 
case of applicants claiming an equivalent education, but without cer- 
tificate, it would be extremely easy to form an impartial board of ex- 
aminers from the local high-school faculties. While recommending 
this standard for admission to medical schools, the Writer would certainly 
not object to the establishment of a still more stringent requirement. 
On account of the overcrowded condition of the medical profession at 
present, even a prohibitive standard would be desirable from one point 
of view, while, with the supply of graduates in medicine far in excess 
of any possible demand, the right of any individual school to increase 
its requirements cannot be questioned. 

A. L. Benedict , M.D. 


HELIOPOLIS. 

T EMPLES and palaces and schools made fair 
The City of the Sun ; 

Plato had studied here, and conned with care 
The lore her priests had won. 

The self-same sun looks down from the clear sky 
Upon the vacant plain : 

One lonely obelisk still rises high 
Above the waving grain. 


Frederick Peterson. 


THE STRIKE AT COLCHESTER. 


679 


THE STRIKE AT COLCHESTER. 

T HE United Sisterhood of Colchester was holding its weekly session. 

The room in which it met was large and lofty, its coloring a 
harmony of rich, subdued tones. There was a blazing back-log on the 
wrought andirons of the great chimney-place, that added a charm to 
the crispness of the autumn air. Afternoon sunshine transferred the 
colors of the stained glass in the windows to the polished floor, and 
threw marvellous tints over the whole assemblage. One yellow gleam 
transformed the fair hair of the president into a saint’s aureole. She 
was young to be the presiding officer of so large a body, but a certain 
serious enthusiasm on her delicate face lent it the dignity her years 
would have denied. 

The Sisterhood arrived by twos and threes. Matrons and maidens, 
grandmothers and young wives, school-teachers and their pupils, the 
prosperous and those pinched by a narrow income, women who earned 
their living and women who had no more pressing work in life than 
to convert cobweb linen into superlative finger-bowl doilies, — all the 
town of Colchester was represented. That was why they had chosen 
the name of “ Sisterhood” rather than the more commonplace “ Woman’s 
Club.” They represented so thoroughly all ages, all degrees of educa- 
tion, all shades of religious belief, there were such various elements so 
harmoniously united, that no less intimate a name would serve to 
express their relation. 

On this autumn day, as the aureole fell upon the head of Angelica 
Starr, the president, it was noted by many that her face wore a look of 
peculiar exaltation. Its cause was not left long to conjecture. Passing 
as rapidly as possible over the preliminary ^business of the meeting, 
she came quickly to her point. 

“I am about, dear sisters,” she began, “to overstep my office and 
the usual formalities and speak to you as a woman to women, as a 
sister to sisters, heart to heart.” The tender thrill in her voice touched 
every soul to sympathy. 

“ You all know that our Sisterhood is interested in everything 
that makes for the elevation and freedom of womanhood, that we 
are banded indissolubly together to this noble end. We are a unit 
in this cause. There should be no individuality. What hurts one 
hurts all. Shall one of the members suffer and the whole body not 
be affected ? 

“ This is why I come to you to-day, with the tears of reluctant 
duty in my eyes, and say to you that as sisters it is now our duty to 
act. We have never before come into conflict with Man as opposed to 
Woman. We have never sought to join an issue between them. If he 
is content to stand aside, remove his brute strength from the path of 
our progress, and see us march gloriously to the goal of our anticipa- 
tions, it suffices us. We have nothing to do with him. But if he 
stand in our way, let him beware !” 


680 


THE STRIKE AT COLCHESTER. 


A faint flush rose in her cheeks. Her eyes radiated a dark magic 
from under her saint's aureole. 

“ I have never been able to understand why Mrs. Starr is so severe 
toward man in general/' whispered a maid to a matron in the audience : 
“ a young and charming widow recently married again scarcely seems 
to be so in particular. A woman who has married twice really doesn't 
appear to be a man-hater." 

“ That's exactly why she is one," returned the matron, with a 
mysterious vindictiveness that silenced the maid. 

The president continued : 

“ There has recently come to my knowledge a tale of wrong and 
outrage that has wrung the very fibres of my soul, and awakened in 
me a desire to aid the unfortunate victim, which I trust will be shared 
by all the Sisterhood. 

“ In this very town, one of our very own Sisterhood, who would have 
been with us this afternoon had not these unrighteous circumstances 
prevented, lies crushed under the heel of household tyranny. Claim- 
ing the prerogatives of man, her husband has declared that the present 
hard times demand retrenchment in his family, and has insisted that 
she dismiss her servant. His pretence is that he has been thrown out 
of his situation, that all his reserve fund has been used except what is 
necessary to pay butchers' and grocers' bills, that he cannot pay a ser- 
vant's wages. When she protests, the monster offers to show her his 
bank-book. He adds hypocrisy to injury by doing this with an ap- 
pearance of kindness. When, following the spirit of the age, she has 
offered to leave the dispute to neighbors to settle, he responds that 
there is nothing to arbitrate, and dismisses the servant. 

“Women of Colchester, shall such things be? Shall we see our 
sister thus maltreated, and sit tamely by and make no protest ? Or 
shall we rise in the might of our womanhood and declare war against 
the greed of husbands, the Monopoly of Man ?" 

The audience was much stirred. Faces were flushed, eyes were 
brilliant with scorn, eager whispers passed to and fro. Several mem- 
bers at once rose to attract the attention of the chair. But the chair's 
attention was distracted by her own eloquence, and she went on with 
her appeal. When at last she paused there was a simultaneous cry of, 
“ We do ! We will ! What shall we do ?" 

The president's face changed. From its glowing enthusiasm it 
settled into an expression of cold resolve. The sweet mouth was firmly 
set, the delicate brows were knit, and under them the ardent eyes con- 
tracted to steely points of light. 

“ Strike /" she hissed, between her clinched teeth. “ Boycott all men /" 

A shudder ran through the assembly. 

“Strike?" “What for?" “What use will it be?" “How?" 
“When?" The questions pattered down like a hailstorm. 

“What for? To express our sympathy with our injured sister. 
What use will it be? It will put our husbands and brothers and 
fathers in such a position that they will force this wretched man to 
yield in order to free themselves from discomfort. How and when? 
At nine o’clock to-morrow morning we will go out.” 


THE STRIKE AT COLCHESTER. 681 

A buzz arose again in the assembly. At last a stout matron of 
benevolent countenance arose. 

“ Mrs. President ■” 

“ Mrs. Green, ladies.” 

Mrs. Green was not used to public speaking. 

“ I rise,” she said, hesitatingly, “ at the desire of many of the ladies 
about me, to express their opinion. Granted the turpitude of one man, 
it seems to us hard that all in town, husbands, fathers, and brothers, 
should suffer for his sin. They are not all raging criminals. It may 
be a confession of weakness, but — we are attached to those who belong 
to us, some of us. They are very good to us.” 

The president’s brow grew a shade darker. 

“ It is the opinion of the president,” she replied, coldly, “ that the 
guilt of one is the guilt of all. Are they not all men ? Are we not 
all women ? In my mind that should settle the matter.” 

The little maid who had interrogated the matron as to the logic of 
the president’s attitude regarding man, jumped to her feet. 

“ Mrs. President,” she said, without waiting to be recognized, “ I 
would suggest that before we take action on this matter we retire to 
some place where we can do so without infringing the laws of hospi- 
tality. We are here by the courtesy of the Colchester Club : we accept 
the use of this hall from man, whom we are about to boycott.” Then 
she dropped into her seat as suddenly as she had popped up. It was 
thejongest speech she had ever made in public, and her voice frightened 
her. 

The president calmly ruled her out of order, and went on. 

“She is a great deal more out of order herself,” murmured the 
little maid. “ The times are out of joint, too and there was some- 
thing quizzical in her smile as she rose and slipped from the hall. No 
one noted her exit in the excitement consequent upon a speech made by 
the matron who had answered her with such vindictive mystery a few 
moments before. 

She desired, she said, to call the attention of the Sisterhood to the 
possibility that a general strike might work as much discomfort to 
themselves as to the men they wished to influence by this means. 
What would become of their houses if they ceased to oversee the work 
in them ? “ Our Royal Worcester vases will be broken, our after-dinner 

coffees will be nicked, and our children’s finger-nails will not be kept 
clean. Ladies, I ask you, is the play worth the candle?” 

At the mention of the after-dinner coffees a universal sigh arose ; 
but the president rapped the Sisterhood promptly to order. 

“ Private considerations,” she averred, “ should be lost in concern 
for the general welfare. Shall we let our individual ease, the pros- 
perity of our individual families, stand between us and our duty? A 
principle is at stake, my sisters. Shall any of our husbands be allowed 
to discharge any of our servants at will ? Shall we thus be ground 
under the iron heel of man’s monopoly ?” 

The president had noted that “ iron heel” was a phrase certain to 
kill at many hundred yards’ distance. It produced its effect now. 
One sister, indeed, murmured that she understood the dismissal was 


682 


THE STRIKE AT COLCHESTER. 


quite warranted in this case ; but her voice was drowned in the enthu- 
siastic cry raised in favor of the strike. It was carried by acclamation ; 
and once more the president’s brow was serene as she changed her 
position, that the ever-moving sun might continue to make an aureole 
of her hair. There was a mirror opposite her. 

The great sympathetic strike was thus definitely ordered. 

Absolute secrecy was expressly enjoined upon the strikers, to “ in- 
crease the moral effect, to make it more tremendous when the moment 
of revelation came,” said the president. If she had further a politic 
idea of preventing soft hearts from being worked upon by pleadings 
or threats, who shall deny her the right of a little strategy? 

“ But,” said one of the sisters, “ when we go out at nine o’clock 
to-morrow morning, where shall we go out to?” 

“ To the hotel,” promptly replied the president. “ Surely we have 
all some money in our possession, enough to support ourselves there 
until the moral effect has had time to work.” 

“ But I am in the strike too,” protested the landlady of the hotel, 
“ and the hotel will have to close unless my husband takes charge of it 
himself. And that will scarcely be boycotting him.” 

“ I make it my rule,” said the president, with dignity, “ never to 
cross any bridges till I come to them. Let to-morrow take care of 
itself.” 

Meanwhile, the little maid who had slipped out of the meeting was 
walking away, she scarcely knew whither. The smile still lingered on 
her lips, but it was not a happy one, and her cheeks were as pink as 
wild roses in June. She was quite unconscious that her indignation 
was boiling over in little spurts of sotto voce sentences. 

“ The insult !” she said, under her breath. “ In their own hall, 
too ! I’d like to know what my father has ever shown me but kind- 
ness, that they should think I could be willing to treat him so!” 

The little maid was housekeeper for a widowed father, who wor- 
shipped her as the particular jewel of his soul and would have been 
glad to keep any other man from similar sentiments. But another 
one had found her out, and also he was young. He was a fine fellow, 
too, in every way worthy of her; but the little maid was self-reliant 
and independent, and so happy in the love of her father that she did 
not like to think of any other love yet, and so she had been rather 
cruel to him. 

It was a coincidence that, walking straight before her in bubbling 
wrath, looking at the ground and not seeing where she went, she should 
have walked squarely into him. 

He looked down very kindly at her from his six feet of vantage. 
“ I don’t think you can run me down,” he said, smiling. 

In her excited state, she took his words literally. 

“Oh, I don’t want to,” she exclaimed, with quite unnecessary 
benevolence. Six feet two looked down at five feet three and laughed 
outright. But she never noticed it. “ Why should I want to be so 
cruel, so treacherous, to those who have been so good to me ? It’s an 
outrage and a shame. I suppose there are men who are not good to 
their wives and daughters ; but that is no reason why I should maltreat 


THE STRIKE AT COLCHESTER. 083 

the kind ones about me. Papa and you — all my friends — why, I 
wouldn’t treat you so for anything !” 

The young man was at a loss to understand the occasion of this 
outburst, but thought it was a happy one for him. 

“ Tell me all about it,” he said ; and, as the twilight was falling 
fast, he tucked her hand under his arm and she let him take her home. 
That was a privilege he had not been allowed for a long time, and he 
was very happy. 

At nine o’clock the next morning the United Sisterhood of Col- 
chester went out in a body. 

The matron who was baking bread left it in the oven, she who was 
ordering dinner left it without dessert, she who was darning her hus- 
band’s socks left the needle sticking in the half-mended hole, she who 
was washing her little boy’s face left one-half of it unwashed. 

One young mother was looked at askance because she stopped to 
finish washing and dressing her baby, and left a tear on its tiny face, 
all rosy and sweet from the bath. Two or three of the more forehanded 
had scarcely taken any sleep that night, that they might leave things 
in comfortable order for their boycotted husbands and the families in- 
volved in the general disaster. They regarded this as a sign of weak- 
ness, and would not have had the president know it for the world. 
“ We do our duty,” they said, sighing, “if we go out. She must not 
pry too closely into the matter.” 

The president shone like a star of the first magnitude to-day. She 
was radiant, she gleamed and scintillated, as one after another of the 
ladies who had gone out came into the hotel. 

The hostess met them with some concern. “ I’m sure I don’t know 
what ever we are to do,” she said. “ When the servants heard about 
the boycott, they said they would willingly do all they could to help 
us, they had no great opinion of the men anyway ; and so they have 
all boycotted my husband and gone off to the city.” 

“ We will divide the work among us,” said the president, “ and I 
will take for my share, if you like, the systematizing of the labor. 
This will save a great deal of time. Can any one lend me paper and 
pencil ?” 

“We shall have to buy supplies, and the provision-dealer is a man,” 
suggested one of the Sisterhood. 

How this point of ethics of the boycott would have been got over 
never appeared, for into the midst of their deliberations rushed a 
breathless maid-servant. 

“ Is Mrs. Merrill here ? Oh, won’t you please come home and look 
at little Philip, ma’am ? He’s all broken out red and spotted, and he 
says his throat’s sore.” 

Mrs. Merrill was out of the house before the sentence was finished, 
leaving behind her a trail of disjointed words — “ He didn’t seem well 
this morning — How could I — boycott” — that found an echo in the 
hearts of other young mothers. 

“ If it is measles,” said one. 

“ Or scarlet fever,” said another. 


684 


THE STRIKE AT COLCHESTER . 


“ Philip is in school with all of our children.” 

And forthwith all the young mothers stood not upon the order of 
their going. Now, Colchester is a favorite resort for young married 
couples, and this defection thinned the boycotting ranks by at least one- 
third. 

A fine scorn curled the red lip of the president. u It is sad,” she 
said, “ to see how the most ordinary promptings of nature will conquer 
the claims of duty.” 

“ Is Mrs. Green here ?” Another maid-servant appeared, wearing 
her Sunday hat and gloves. “ I thought you might be glad to know, 
ma’am,” she went on, “that a lot of us girls has heard about the boy- 
cott and how the girls at the hotel is going to help the ladies along by 
all going out too ; and so we’re going to join the strike and go out 
likewise. We think we’ll go out to the city, ma’am ; and will you 
please lend me your ticket-book ?” 

This unexpected reinforcement did not seem to strengthen the 
strike. 

“ I can’t have my house left alone,” said one lady, and “ There 
must be some lunch for my daughters when they come home from 
school. I didn’t agree to boycott my daughters,” said another. 

“ We wish the strike well, Mrs. Starr,” said a third, making her- 
self spokeswoman for the crowd, “ but really ” And she melted 

away, followed by another large contingent. 

Example is as contagious among human beings as among sheep. 
As small a thing as will start them in one direction will bring them 
back pell-mell in the other. By eleven o’clock all the ladies of the 
Colchester Sisterhood who had gone out at nine had gone in again, and 
the sympathetic strike was over. 

As it had been conducted from the beginning with such secrecy, 
and as the Sisters saw no particular moral effect to be gained by telling 
the history of the broken boycott, the men of Colchester never knew 
anything about it. They came home at night to find their good wives 
busy about their sick children, or supplying the place of the servants 
who were “ having a day out in town.” 

“ Don’t read me about the labor troubles,” said one of them, when 
the head of the house proposed reading the newspaper aloud that 
evening. “I have no sympathy with strikes.” 

One of the men of Colchester must be excepted. He knew all 
about the great boycott, how it was begun and how it was ended. But 
the little maid made him promise that he would never tell. “ Because, 
after all,” she said, “ we are more reasonable than we seem sometimes. 
The women of Colchester have just proved it.” 

And the young man said he thought so too, and that he would be 
glad to promise. 

Now, this was not pure magnanimity on his part. The little maid 
had practically proved her reasonableness to his mind half an hour 
before by listening very kindly to something he had had to say to her. 
And this was the only permanent result of the strike at Colchester. 

T. B. Exeter. 


A DEAD CITY OF CEYLON. 


685 


A DEAD CITY OF CEYLON. 

H ALF an hour before the first gray light of dawn had begun to 
steal round the distant crests of the Kandyan mountains we had 
started, in order to reach the edge of the forest before sunrise. Our 
guide had timed us well. The cold gray light of morning was still 
round us when we reached the river, rushing and gurgling with a liquid 
music over the sandy shallows and between the scattered masses of 
rock that strewed its bed. The eastern sky was flushing from a silvery 
pink to violet as we neared the first outlying satinwood trees, that 
rose, vast pinnacles of shining green, strangely tinted by the colored 
light. And just as we reached the forest itself we halted involuntarily 
to see the sun rise slowly from the eastern ocean, the flood of gold 
above and around him flashing back in a thousand coruscations from 
the glittering plain below. 

As we plunged into the jungle path, the last belated bats were 
flapping their way homeward, and giving place to the first birds of 
day, the crows, whose joyous cries already made the dim recesses of 
the forest start into life. The flood of morning sunshine which lighted 
up the path, though it could hardly be said to do as much for the 
depths of the surrounding jungle, was the signal for the awakening of 
the teeming life of the forest. From every branch on either side our 
path was poured a sudden gush of music. The rich song of the dial- 
bird was mingled with the more distant flute-like notes of the oriole ; 
and from the far recesses of the forest the deep mellow call of the 
jungle-cock filled the air with a luxury of sound. Then the insect 
life awoke. Huge dragon-flies, startling in their bright metallic color- 
ing, flashed past us; bright moths and gaudy butterflies floated and 
danced in the streams of sunlight that here and there penetrated the 
overarching canopy of leaves, like huge painted motes dancing in the 
golden tide. Our little party moved silently along the forest path, 
even the horses treading softly, as if unwilling to disturb the universal 
jubilee. No remarks were made as we followed one another in single 
file along the moss-grown track. Our guide’s white turban, a little 
way in advance, served as an index of the windings of the path, as it 
alternately appeared and was lost to sight, gleaming in a setting of 
dark-green leaves. Then came the doctor, his eyes looking neither to 
right nor left, following right onward as though possessed by a single 
idea, from which not all the thousand marvels of that teeming forest 
life could divert him for a moment. I came next, closely followed by 
Hector, mounted on the largest horse we could procure, which yet 
looked absurdly disproportioned to his size. Our two native attend- 
ants, each leading a baggage-pony, brought up the rear. 

In this way we travelled till noon : still the same beautiful dim 
path ; still the same endless wealth of color and of life. But gradually, 
as the sun had risen higher and higher overhead, the coolness of the 
forest shades, so refreshing in the morning, had more and more given 


686 


A DEAD CITY OF CEYLON. 


place to a dull and stifling heat. Not a breath of air now stirred a 
leaf of all the myriads that hemmed us in. The slender bars of 
golden light that crossed our path seemed now to scorch and burn ; 
and one by one the voices of the forest had sunk into silence. The 
songs that had lately thrilled each leafy arcade were hushed, and the 
clear flute- or bell-like notes that had echoed through the vistas of the 
jungle had grown rarer and more rare, till now at last they had 
altogether ceased. Even the insects had settled, too much oppressed 
to continue their mazy dance or any longer fill the air with their 
drowsy murmurings. Dead silence fell upon the forest. The soft 
footfalls of our horses on the mossy path grew loud. The ticking of 
a watch, even the beating of a heart, made a sound distinctly audible 
in that hushed silence. It reminded me of old stories of an enchanted 
palace in which life had been suddenly suspended, and I seemed to 
myself like the daring prince who ventured to break in upon that 
charmed repose. 

At last we halted beside a brook that crossed the path, and for 
three hours or so abandoned ourselves to the lassitude that oppressed 
us. For my' own part, I fell asleep, lulled by the soft, gurgling song 
of the little stream, and soothed by the narcotic of the air. When I 
awoke, our attendants were preparing for a start, and we quickly re- 
sumed our journey. It was now late afternoon, and gradually the 
oppression of the heated atmosphere was diminishing. There was a 
rustle and a shiver among the leaves overhead, and, although the 
breeze did not penetrate the forest depths below, it served to stir the 
air and freshen the atmosphere once more. 

Again nature awoke. The birds bestirred themselves, and gave 
forth a few notes of song. The paroquets chattered and called among 
the leaves. The butterflies floated and danced in the sunny vistas, and 
the little moth-eating birds darted, bright splashes of color, through 
sunshine and shadow in the chase. All was life once more, but hardly 
the life of the morning hours. There was somehow a new air of busi- 
ness now. Birds and lizards were abroad and were busy, but now it 
seemed i to be in the search for food, and not, as before, in the simple 
expression of happiness, the mere joy of existence. 

And so the day drew towards evening. The sunny gleams with- 
drew from the forest paths, though they still glittered and sparkled 
among the quivering leaves overhead. Gradually a gray shade fell 
over the green depths around us. The vistas were closing in. The 
endless variety of shades around were melting into a uniform purplish 
hue, and something like a misty haze crept gradually up the hollows 
and obscured the view. The sun was going down. All nature seemed 
to know. The songs of the birds had ceased for some time, and now 
even the calls were hushed. There was a rustling and a twittering on 
every bough, as the life of the forest composed itself to rest. Far off 
in the dim depths of the jungle there sounded a cry, harsh, impatient, 
fierce, the cry of a beast of prey, the herald of nature’s dark night’s 
work of blood. A bat whirred swiftly across the track. It was time 
to encamp. 

Once more our guide had timed us well, and we reached our camp- 


A DEAD CITY OF CEYLON. 


687 


ing-place just as our path was growing so dim as to be no longer safe 
to travel. Here we encamped with the usual precautions against the 
attacks of wild beasts, and here we spent the night without even an 
alarm of danger. 

It was on the evening of the second day’s journey that at last we 
emerged from the narrow forest path just as the daylight was dying 
into a soft green glow in the sky over the dark western ranges. The 
forest had been growing thinner for some time, and now it had sud- 
denly ceased, and we found ourselves on open ground, where here and 
there a solitary tree stood in sombre majesty, casting its long dark 
shadow on the grass, the lonely sentinel of the wood behind. 

Hills now rose on all sides, crowned and dotted over with trees, 
standing either in clumps or singly, and, reflecting back the tender 
glimmering of the earliest stars, a great still sheet of water, lay before 
us, which stretched away silent and unruffled, fringed with the shadows 
of the hills, and flecked with the images of the few tinted clouds which 
still hung motionless in the sky overhead, into the dim mysterious 
recesses of the mountains. 

“ Minihiri Rama !” exclaimed our guide, raising his arm and indi- 
cating the lake before him with a free sweep of his hand as he reined 
in his horse and gazed round him with an air of reverential awe. The 
view was indeed a strange and solemn one, as seen in the slowly fading 
light of the tropical day. The perfect stillness of the scene, the great 
lake sleeping under the solemn shadows of the hills, bearing, as we 
knew, upon its shore the ruins of a dead city of the past, had on my 
mind, at least, a strange, impressive effect. This was increased, I think, 
by the knowledge that the great sheet of water before us was itself the 
work of man, — of the same men, indeed, who in the dim, long- forgotten 
past had built the city whose remains strewed the margin of the work 
which had survived them by so many generations. 

It was too late to attempt any exploration of the ruins that evening, 
and it would have been unsafe to spend a night among its mouldering 
remains, the harborage of wild animals and venomous reptiles : so 
once more we encamped for the night. 

The tent was pitched, and after a time my companions retired to 
rest, wearied with a long day’s journey. For my own part, I seemed 
to have lost the power to sleep. It was in vain that I tried to compose 
myself to rest ; the excitement in my blood forbade success. At last I 
gave up the attempt, and quietly, without disturbing my companions, 
I stepped out into the night. 

The moon was rising behind the dark mass of the forest we had 
so lately passed. The violet blue of the tropical sky was fading to a 
silver gray, and the stars were receding into faint points of twinkling 
light before her coming. The broad breast of the mountain before 
me already slept in her soft white radiance, each clump of scattered 
trees upon its slope glittering like a pyramid of shifting light. 

At the foot of the mountain lay the great lake. Not a ripple 
moved its placid surface, in which, as in some vast mirror, there slept 
the images of the dark mountain, the shimmering trees, and the paling 
stars, in faint opalescent tints of light. It was a scene of enchantment, 


688 


A DEAD CITE OF CEYLON. 


such as no painter had ever dared to throw upon canvas, no poet ever 
tried to perpetuate in verse. 

As I gazed, the moon rose slowly in the sky, a burnished shield 
of liquid light. Her long white rays glittered upon the solemn forest 
and penetrated the far recesses of the hills, trailing a broad pathway 
of silver over the water till it was lost in the distant shadows of the 
mountain. 

As if drawn by some spell, I walked slowly towards the lake till 
I stood at last on a rising ground that overlooked the broad still sheet 
of water. There, to the right, between the mountain and the shore, 
lay the ruins of the city of the long dead past. ^Flooded by the moon- 
light, it swam in a haze of glory, each mound of decaying stone crowned 
with trees, each crumbling wall clothed with a garment of nature’s own 
providing. It was the very apotheosis of decay. 

It had been no puny city. Far up the mountain’s lower slope, far 
back to where the hills drew down to the shore, the long succession of 
its ruins extended, — here in great shapeless mounds that stood alone, a 
few broken shafts and shattered pediments still standing out, clear, 
sharp-cut, and angular, in the silver light, there in long ranges of 
crumbling walls, through which vast fig-trees shot up their wealth of 
leaves, that marked the course of some broad avenue which went on 
and on till it lost itself in the white distance. 

As my eyes dwelt upon the scene, it seemed to change. As I gazed 
upon its ruins, the dead city woke from its sleep of ages, and became 
once more a city of the living. The long, moonlit avenues were filled 
again with thronging multitudes, and the hum of myriads of voices 
seemed to reach my ears. Long colonnades grew up, as if by magic, 
along each side of the broad street, overshadowed by huge branching 
trees: the white pillars, the stately porticos, the high roofs, broken 
into a thousand fantastic shapes and angles, glittered whitely in the 
moonlight. 

There was life everywhere. Hurrying multitudes thronged each 
road ; groups of turbaned servants carried palanquins ; long proces- 
sions wound down the avenues and approached the temples ; riders in 
gorgeous costumes passed by ; soldiers marched through the streets in 
picturesque and serried ranks. The city of the long past age lived 
again before my eyes. Its temples were restored ; its palaces shone 
fresh as from the hand of the builder ; its teeming thousands poured 
through every avenue and woke again the long silent echoes of each 
street. By the lake, too, there was life. Temples, gorgeous with 
marble and glittering with gold, lined the shore. White-robed Brah- 
mins flitted up and down the long staircases that descended to the lake ; 
worshippers crouched on the lowest steps, or crept painfully upward on 
hands and knees towards the pillared porticos above. Yes, and there 
upon the shore was a funeral pyre, on which lay a still, white-robed 
figure, while a group of other figures stood, pale and silent, round. A 
priest approached the pile, bearing a lighted torch : he applied it to 
the heap. A long, pale column of smoke arose. It mingled with 
the moonlight. It grew dim and dimmer as I looked, and then it 
vanished. 


A HUNDRED AND TWENTY MILES AN HOUR. 


689 


In its place once more was the pale shine of the moonlight on the 
silent lake, and its soft clear radiance on the dim dead shore. The 
city, even as I looked, had sunk again into silence and decay. Its 
temples were once more heaps of ruin ; its palaces had crumbled into 
shapeless masses, crowned again with nature’s kindly vestment of 
green. Its teeming multitudes had disappeared, and the hum of its 
myriads had sunk into the soft murmur of the night breeze through 
the trees. 

Only the lake remained, the silent, glassy, unruffled lake, bearing 
on its bosom still the dark reflection of the mountain, the soft gleam 
of the stars, and the broad pathway of the soaring moon. As I looked, 
a head and then a body rose slowly from the water and moved stealthily 
up the shore. The white rays glittered on his wet, scaly armor ; he 
disappeared among the ruins. It was a crocodile. My vision was at 
an end. I had seen the sole surviving representative of life steal into 
the city of the dead. 

Owen Hall. 


A HUNDRED AND TWENTY MILES AN HOUR . 

BY THE AUTHOR OF “THE WONDERS OF MODERN MECHANISM.” 

I T is generally conceded that sixty miles an hour is the practical 
limit of speed on steam railways, as at present constructed. It is 
rather startling, therefore, to be told that a company has been formed 
and that capital has been obtained for the purpose of erecting a railway 
which will bear trains at double this speed. A hundred and twenty 
miles an hour is a speed that, if maintained, would carry one around 
the world in a trifle over eight days. It is faster than the hurricane, 
the carrier-pigeon, or anything else that moves upon this mundane 
sphere. Yet the National Rapid Transit Company is asking the 
United States Senate for privileges looking to the establishment of a 
line between New York and Washington, and specifying in the pro- 
posed bill that the schedule-time shall not be less than one hundred 
miles an hour, which necessitates a speed of a hundred and twenty 
miles per hour to cover loss from stops. Further, the General Electric 
Company of New York is willing to guarantee motors, generators, and 
other electric mechanism for such a road, warranting them to main- 
tain a speed of one hundred and fifty [note the fifty] miles an hour 
when delivering a hundred horse-power per motor, with two motors 
per car. 

All this is possible through what is known as the Brott rapid 
transit system. This system makes use of what is miscalled a bicycle 
railway. It is not a bicycle construction in any proper usage of the 
word, which means two wheels; but the likeness to the bicycle is 
found in the fact that the supporting wheels are in line and run on a 
single rail, instead of on a parallel track, as in the ordinary railway. 
It is an elevated road, as no chances can be taken with grade crossings. 
Vol. LVL— 44 


690 


A HUNDRED AND TWENTY MILES AN HOUR. 


The supporting wheels — or traction wheels, as they are called — have 
very wide flanges, to keep them on the track, and balance is assured by 
side wheels which may occasionally touch the side stringers if the cars 
oscillate a little. It is well known that a body running on wheels 
arranged in a line tends to remain upright, so that these side wheels 
will have little to do except when a train is starting or stopping. 
These side wheels are to have pneumatic tires, to prevent jar to the 
passengers when they impinge against the stringers. The cars are to 
be made of steel and vulcanized timber. The electric motors will be 
of the gearless type, operating directly on the axle, one on each side. 
The electric current will be taken from a conductor on the trolley 
principle, and power-stations will be erected about fifty miles apart to 
supply the current by feeder- wires to intervening points. The con- 
ductor, which will be almost too large to be termed a wire, will 
probably be carried under the cars instead of overhead. It will 
deliver the current to the car-motors at a pressure of one thousand 
volts, double that used on street-railways. The generators at the 
power-stations will develop it at ten thousand volts, and transformers 
will be used to reduce it as it reaches the conductors. The three-phase 
alternating current system will be used. 

The elevated double-track construction is such as to mutually brace 
the tracks. An even grade will be maintained by simply altering the 
length of the poles, which will be cheaper than the building of em- 
bankments and cuttings necessary in the construction of surface-roads. 
An almost absolutely straight line will be preserved, as curves interfere 
with speed. The supporting poles will be about twenty-five feet apart, 
and will be set into underground sills and braced below the frost-line. 
Light trains, preferably of two cars, will be run, and, as the system is 
entirely express, a higher rate of fare may be expected than is charged 
on existing lines. 



An experimental single-track line of thirty miles is to be built 
between Washington, D.C., and Chesapeake Bay, on the design shown 
in the illustration. The construction is most economical, requiring no 
iron or steel except for the track-rails. It will be observed that the 
cross-sill or tie rests on the ground, and to it are secured the posts that 




A HUNDRED AND TWENTY MILES AN HOUR. 


691 


support the stringers and side rails. The centre stringer has supports 
midway of each span, and being so near the surface the roadway will 
have all the strength and stability required. The centre rail will have 
normally an elevation of about two feet, except at road-crossings, where 
it will be elevated to afford passage underneath. The cross-ties may 
lie on the ground or be elevated, as the nature of the ground renders 
desirable. A steel-truss construction will be used in crossing rivers or 
deep gullies. The wood used in construction is to be subjected to a 
preserving process. The peculiar story-and-a-half design of the car 
should be noted, the half-story being below, and constituting a room 
forty feet long, six feet wide, and four feet high, suitable for carrying 
baggage, the mails, etc. It is reached by outside doors. Above is the 
compartment for passengers. 

Another line is projected in the vicinity of Minneapolis. The 
simple construction would seem to be well suited for pleasure railways 
and light passenger traffic, and the success of these lines would un- 
doubtedly lead to the construction of express lines between the great 
business centres of the world. 

It is interesting to consider the reasons for believing that it is 
practical to maintain the high speeds possible with this system. The 
principal resistance to speed is, of course, frictional, and in the case 
of a railway is of three sorts, — flange friction, journal friction, and 
rolling friction. As a bicycle rail-car will tend to stand upright with- 
out mechanical assistance, the side friction of the flanges will be re- 
duced to a minimum. A reduction in the curves of the track will also 
effect a saving, and between the two the saving of flange friction ought 
to be at least seventy-five per cent. Journal friction can be reduced 
in about the same proportion by using modern steel ball-bearings. 
Rolling friction can be reduced by the use of lighter cars. It does not 
amount to much, anyway. Locomotives have a reciprocating motion 
of the pistons that cannot approach in speed the rotary motion of an 
electric motor. With every stroke the piston and connections have to 
come to a dead halt and be reversed. A rotary motion is continuous, 
and in practice admits of certainly twelve times the speed obtainable 
with an equivalent reciprocating mechanism. Improved tracks, having 
no severe grades or curves, will do the rest. 

How about the resistance of the air ? some one will query, at this 
point. It is scarcely worth figuring on. If air-resistance increased 
with the square of the velocity, as many have maintained, how would 
it be possible to fire a projectile twelve miles with a single impulse? 
It is now claimed that it does not increase in that ratio. Mr. F. O. 
Crosby has demonstrated that air-pressure increases with the velocity, 
so that at one hundred and sixty miles an hour there would be twice 
the resistance at sixty miles an hour. It remains to be seen whether 
his conclusions will be accepted by physicists ; but, whatever this re- 
sistance may amount to, it is in practice reducible about two-thirds by 
making the forward end of the train in the form of a pointed cone, so 
that the air simply glances off. 

Engineer F. L. Averill, of Washington, who has figured on this 
problem, says that nine hundred and forty-seven horse-power would be 


692 


A HUNDRED AND TWENTY MILES AN HOUR. 


sufficient to drive a train of the character described one hundred miles 
an hour, on a two-per-cent, up-grade, against a head- wind blowing 
thirty miles an hour. He adds, — 

“ The tractive force necessary to move the train in this last ex- 
ample requires a total weight on driving-wheels of eleven thousand 
eight hundred pounds, far within the necessary weight of motors and 
cars. 

“ The power shown above to be necessary would require only from 
eighty to one hundred and eighteen horse-power motors to be applied 
to each of eight driving-axles. With six-feet drivers, to make one 
hundred and fifty miles per hour would require seven hundred revo- 
lutions per minute. That the power and velocity of motors would be 
well within present possibilities goes without saying. 

“ The electricians say that there is no difficulty likely in conducting 
the electric current from a trolley-wire to motors at this speed. 

“ Lubrication seems without difficulty, provided that all wheels are 
made somewhat larger than in the present railway cars and that the 
journals are ample in size to reduce the pressure on bearings. 

“It would seem as if the promoters of high-speed projects had 
only to provide first-class machinery, cars, and roadway, taken with a 
good system, in order to fulfil their expectations with perfect safety. 
The benefits from such a high-speed service are incalculable. The 
influence upon commerce and all business would be marked. The 
great economy of time in travel and transportation would greatly 
stimulate both, and ought to bring a golden return to the successful 
project.” 

The whole plan is so entirely practical that it is only a matter of 
time when such roads will be established between all important points. 
The substitution of the electric motor and special devices for fast travel 
may be delayed by the managers of steam-railways, whose business 
will be injured thereby, but the change has got to come. Present 
methods are not in keeping with the progressive science of the age. 
The steam-roads carry a ton of car-weight for every passenger they 
transport, where only four hundred pounds are required with the new 
system. The slaughter of people by crossing roads built at grade on 
the surface must be stopped, and this is one way to avoid it. Why 
should the mails occupy twenty-four hours in transit between New 
York and Chicago, when the distance can be covered in eight hours? 
Why should passengers be bothered with sleeping-car accommodations 
to make a journey that can be accomplished within the short hours 
that now constitute a legal working-day ? 

In the Brott system locomotives are dispensed with. The motors 
are on the axles, under the cars. Hence it is possible to dispense with 
the mighty locomotive, that has to be made nearly as heavy as the 
whole train in order to secure a proper hold upon the track. Now 
that ocean steamers have so closely approached railroad speed, it is 
high time that the land roads forged ahead before designers of water 
craft catch up. 


Charles H. Cochrane. 


A ROMANCE IN LATE FALL. 


693 


A ROMANCE IN LATE FALL. 

“ mHE thirty-first day of October. So it is. Hallowe’en ! Queer 
_L how I seem to remember that date.” The magazine fell from 
Miss Lucinda Damon’s knee, and she drew her thin hand slowly 
across her eyes. “ Well, I don’t know that it is so strange, either,” 
she added, reflectively, “ for it was the last good time that I ever had. 
Only sixteen then, and I’ve been an old woman ever since.” 

The north wind whistled about the small cottage and seemed to 
emphasize its mistress’s lonely mood ; the half-burnt log in the fire- 
place fell with a dull thud, and Miss Lucinda rose to her feet with a 
sudden determination. 

“ I suppose I’m an old fool,” she muttered, with a little deprecating 
laugh, “ but I’m going to do it anyway. Luckily, there is no one here 
to see.” 

She took up the lamp and hastened into an adjoining bedroom. 
Her hands were trembling as she bent over an old cedar chest and 
lifted the lid, and a dull flush rose to her cheeks as she took from its 
depths a mass of crumpled muslin. 

“It is wrinkled and yellowed,” she said, with a faint smile, as she 
slipped off her dark alpaca and drew the dainty ruffled skirt over her 
head, “ but it goes better with its owner than if it had kept its fresh- 
ness all these years.” 

In a few moments she raised the lamp and held it up beside the 
mirror. She scarcely knew what she had expected to see. Perhaps 
she had unconsciously hoped that the old-time gown would bring back 
some of her lost girlishness. At all events, she seemed unprepared for 
the reflection which confronted her. Possibly it was the cut of the 
round baby waist finished in frills of soft lace about the shoulders 
which made the bones in her thin neck so startlingly prominent. Or 
perhaps the delicate gown once worn by the girl of sixteen made the 
now old and faded face above it look still older and more faded by its 
very incongruity. 

Miss Lucinda shuddered slightly and turned away. Then a sudden 
gleam of hope came to her. “Ah, I forgot,” she said, opening a 
drawer. “ I always wore the amethyst necklace with this gown. Maybe 
it is the want of that which makes my neck look so — queer.” 

By this time she had in her hand a little jewel-box, and in another 
moment a quaint old-fashioned necklace of exquisite pearls and ame- 
thysts was clasped about the withered throat. She looked at the image 
seriously for a minute, and then gave a tremulous laugh. “ It seems 
hard to believe, but I was pretty once. The night of my Hallowe’en 
party, — just before father lost his money and we left Dorset forever, — 
folks said that I was going to be a real beauty. Bather a waste to 
bring a beauty to Faxton to live. Here I have grown to be an ugly 
old woman, — an ugly old woman with not a single romance to look back 
upon ; and yet they say that every woman has at least one in her life.” 


694 


A ROMANCE IN LATE FALL. 


She took off her necklace and put it carefully back in the drawer 
where it had lain untouched for a score of years. She unfastened the 
broad belt ribbon of the pretty gown, hesitated, and then with a quick 
determination re-hooked it, while a shamefaced smile crept over her 
face at her own foolishness. 

u May as well be consistent,” she soliloquized. “ If an old maid 
of fifty-three is weak-minded enough to try Hallowe’en charms, she 
ought to wear the trappings that go with such silly doings.” 

The wind penetrated keenly through the gauzy muslin as she 
stepped cautiously out of the side door, protecting her skirts with one 
hand and holding a tiny cracked mirror high in the other. 

Then she began a slow passage backward around the house, once, 
twice. “ My fate has one more chance,” she laughed, softly, stopping 
to take breath before starting on her last pilgrimage. 

The moon struggled out from behind a bank of dark clouds as she 
reached the shrubbery by the east corner, and it sent a little shaft of 
light straight onto the mirror. There was a startled cry, a swift 
rustle of muslin skirts, and Miss Lucinda was once more in the 
sitting-room, with both hands clasped above her beating heart ; for in 
that brief flash of light the little spinster was sure she had seen a 
man’s dark face reflected on the glass. 

“ My gracious me !” she panted, “ I never had such a fright in my 
life. But it must have been imagination. No one could possibly be 
outside.” She glanced fearfully at the shadeless windows, half expect- 
ing to see the face peering in at her. “ What nonsense ! It was dark, 
and my nerves were all in a flutter. It was most likely only a branch ; 
and yet — I can see those strange eyes so distinctly. There, I won’t be 
such a goose.” 

She gave her thin shoulders a resolute shake, and, going into the 
pantry, brought out a pan of apples, which she placed on the table 
before her. Selecting the largest and most perfect one, she cut the 
skin from it carefully, and then passed the long red paring about 
her head, giving it a quick throw over her left shoulder the fatal 
third time. It fell in a little twisted curl under the clock and made 
no intelligible form : so, after trying in vain to reconcile its shape 
with some one letter in the alphabet, Miss Lucinda turned her back 
on it disappointedly and knelt down by the hearth with a handful of 
chestnuts. 

“ The little one is for me,” she said, placing two side by side on the 

coals. “ And the big one well, I don’t want to name it for the 

grocer or the butcher or old Dr. Thornhill, so it will have to be just 
any one.” 

She watched the two chestnuts intently, holding her breath in sus- 
pense as the one she had named for herself slowly smouldered and 
became a little charred heap on the hearth. “ I don’t care, as long as 

the other one stays by it,” she began. “ And it is really Merciful 

heavens ! what is that ?” 

A deafening crash came from the fields behind the cottage. The 
hoarse shriek of a locomotive mingled with shouts and terrified cries. 
Miss Lucinda sprang to her feet and flung open the outer door. A 


A ROMANCE IN LATE FALL . 


695 


flood of light from the little hall-way shone out across the adjoining 
meadow. By its aid she discerned a group of dim figures coming 
towards her from the direction of the railroad track which had been 
recently laid across the corner of her south meadow. In a moment 
she recognized old Dr. Thornhill, the foremost of the group. Behind 
him came two men bearing a motionless figure on a stretcher. 

“ Get some old linen, Lucinda,” shouted the doctor as soon as he 
was within speaking-distance. “ We will have to take him into the 
spare room on the ground-floor. He is too much hurt to be moved 
up-stairs.” 

“ How did it happen ?” quavered the little spinster, as she tore an 
old sheet into long strips. 

“ Accident to the eight-forty Springfield train, marm,” returned 
one of the men. “ Connectin’-rod to the injine broke an’ ripped up 
all the sleepers. Two cars went off the track, but nobody was much 
hurt exceptin’ him.” And he pointed with his thumb towards the bed. 

“ Bandages,” said the doctor, brusquely, and Miss Lucinda ap- 
proached with the linen strips. 

At the same moment the patient half opened a pair of dark eyes 
and fixed them blankly on her face. 

“Why, here! what’s this?” exclaimed the doctor, catching Miss 
Lucinda’s swaying figure and dropping her without ceremony onto the 
wood-box. “Lucinda, woman, what’s the matter with you? You 
are too old to turn pale at the sight of a little blood. One reason why 
I ordered this man to be brought here was because I knew you were 
such an excellent nurse.” 

By a strong effort Miss Lucinda controlled herself and rose steadily 
to her feet. 

“ It was just a passing weakness, doctor,” she apologized, meekly. 
“ I am perfectly calm now. It was because I thought 1 recognized — 
the face. But it couldn’t be,” she added, under her breath. “It 
couldn’t be. This man was on the train five miles away at the time. 
Could it have been a presentiment?” 

After the doctor had made his patient comfortable, he turned to 
the light with some papers in his hands which he had taken from the 
injured man’s pockets, and began a vain search for an address. 

There were several time-tables, a paper covered with rough figures, 
and a hastily drawn plan of the interior of a house, but there was no 
clue to the stranger’s identity. The man watched him listlessly until, 
in further search in the pockets of the rough gray coat, the doctor 
drew forth a small pasteboard box. Then a quick gleam of intelli- 
gence brightened the dull eyes, and he made a faint clutch at it. Miss 
Lucinda was at his side in an instant. 

“ Don’t open that, doctor,” she said, laying her hand on his arm 
entreatingly. “ See how it distresses him to have it touched. Give it 
to me, and let me take care of it for the present until he is better.” 
And she gave the patient a protecting little glance as she carried the 
unopened box triumphantly away with her. 

Half an hour later Dr. Thornhill went into the sitting-room to give 
Miss Lucinda parting instructions for the night. 


696 


A ROMANCE IN LATE FALL. 


“ And I’ll be up early in the morning,” he concluded, buttoning 
his coat closely around him. “ He will sleep quietly enough to-night 
with the narcotics I have given him. I won’t answer for him to- 
morrow, though : so you had better get some rest yourself while you 
can. You won’t feel in the mood for trying any more Hallowe’en 
charms to-night, I guess.” 

He glanced quizzically at the chestnuts on the hearth, and at the 
apple-paring in the corner of the room ; then his gaze rested on the 
queer little figure of Miss Lucinda herself, and he smiled broadly. 

Miss Lucinda became suddenly conscious of her ball-room attire. 
She made a weak effort to pull the lace higher about her throat, and 
for the first time in years an embarrassed blush burned in her cheeks. 
“ To think I should be caught making such a simpleton of myself!” 
she murmured, as the door closed on the doctor. “ I do hope he 
didn’t notice !” 

The few days that followed the accident were filled with keen 
interest for Miss Lucinda. As she sat by the bedside of the injured 
man, her thoughts strayed away from the practical, homely details of 
her real life, and she allowed her imagination free play, with at last 
something tangible to work upon. It was a quaint little romance 
that she finally fashioned out of the strange happenings that Hallow- 
e’en. The image she had caught sight of in the glass while backing 
around the cottage the little spinster came to regard with a sacred 
sort of awe, termed it her “ vision” in her dreams, and with a deep 
feeling of sentiment which had lain dormant all the long years pre- 
vious she would glance at the dark face on the pillow and timidly note 
the resemblance it bore to the mirrored reflection. 

The man never spoke, but now and then he would slowly open his 
eyes and reward his kind nurse with a glance which she readily inter- 
preted as thanks for her untiring care. The only thing of which he 
seemed to be conscious was the small box which had caused him such 
excitement when he had seen it in the doctor’s hands the night he had 
been brought to the cottage. To reassure him of its safety, Miss Lu- 
cinda had at length placed it under his pillow, and in his wakeful 
moments his hand would always steal into the hiding-place and clutch 
his treasure. 

Whenever he slipped his hand under the pillow in this way, Miss 
Lucinda had a sudden sinking in her heart. It was quite possible that 
it contained some remembrance of a dead love, — “ or a gift to a living 
one,” thought the little woman, with a shudder. 

The business-like visits of the doctor broke rudely in upon these 
fanciful moments : his brusqueness brought the dreamer out of the 
clouds with an unpleasant shock. 

“ Lucinda,” he said, one day, drawing her into the little kitchen, 
“ I must confess that this case puzzles me. This man should have his 
wits about him by this time, if he is ever going to. And yet I can’t 
get an intelligible word out of him.” 

Miss Lucinda looked grave. “ The wound on his head ” she 

faltered. 

“ The wound on his head is nearly healed. No, I am beginning 


A ROMANCE IN LATE FALL. 


697 


to doubt I wish I could find out the fellow’s address. It is 

queer there should be no name anywhere about him. Of course I 
have advertised in the papers, but no one comes to look him up. I 
thought when he began to improve he would be able to tell us some- 
thing about himself, but whenever I try to question him he merely 
looks at me in a vague, wandering way, and does not seem to under- 
stand. If the man has escaped from a retreat ” 

Miss Lucinda bridled as angrily as if Dr. Thornhill had questioned 
her own sanity. 

“ He is perfectly rational,” she protested. “ You do not know how 
to approach him, that is all. He always knows — me” And she looked 
down with a conscious smile. 

“Hm! Well, then, if he does, do for heaven’s sake find out his 
name,” growled the doctor, stamping out of the door. 

That afternoon Miss Lucinda made her first attempt to obey his 
commands. She had been sitting by the bedside with her knitting- 
work, glancing occasionally at the invalid, who was sleeping quietly. 

The last time that she raised her eyes, she found that he had 
awakened and was looking at her with a keen, bright gaze. Miss 
Lucinda blushed. She had found herself blushing many times in the 
last few days, and she rose with a little flurried movement. 

“ Dear ! dear !” she said, nervously, “ it is time for your medicine.” 

After she had given it to him, she continued to stand beside the 
bed, turning the spoon absently between her thumb and forefinger. 

“ Don’t you think,” she began, gently, “ that you could perhaps 
tell me your name now ?” 

The stranger moved his head uneasily on the pillow. 

“ Or — where you came from ?” she supplemented, timidly. 

The man knitted his handsome brows in a quick frown and darted 
a strange look at her, but he did not answer. A swift thought came 
to the little spinster. “ How stupid of us ! He is a foreigner, of 
course, and has not understood one word that we have said. I will 
soon fix that.” 

She hurried across the room to an old bookcase filled with the 
school-books which had not been opened for thirty-odd years. Hastily 
selecting one, she went back to the bedside and turned over the dusty 
leaves with eager fingers. Her patient watched her curiously. 

“He is Frenchier-looking than he is German, so I guess I will 
try that first,” she decided, aloud, running her forefinger down the 
yellowed margin of the book. Then, in a loud, staccato voice, she 
demanded, — 

“ Parlez — vous — Frangais f” 

The words had a singular effect upon the patient. He bit his lips 
violently, then turned his face away from her and broke into a smothered 
laugh. Miss Lucinda drew back in alarm. This apparently uncalled- 
for mirth confirmed only too sadly the doctor’s theory. Two loving 
tears rolled down the little woman’s cheeks, and she laid her frail 
hand with a protecting movement on the brown head. 

“My poor love,” she murmured, solemnly, “I will take care of 
you always. They shall not shut you up again.” 


698 


NOVEMBER. 


The man gave a quick gasp and raised himself on his elbow. 
“ My God !” he cried, wildly. “ How did you find out ?” 

Miss Lucinda backed away from him in terror. 

“ Oh — oh — lie down again,” she quavered. “ I — would not have 
said that — if I had thought you — would understand. Oh, do lie 
down again, and don’t for mercy’s sake move till I come back.” 

The next instant she was running across the fields towards Dr. 
Thornhill’s house, two miles away. 

When the doctor’s buggy rattled up to the little cottage an hour 
later, Miss Lucinda was the first to alight, and she rushed into the 
house at once. 

The doctor, following, found her standing in the middle of the 
deserted chamber, staring blankly at the small pasteboard box which 
lay on the empty pillow, and holding a piece of inky brown paper in 
her hand. Together they breathlessly read the words scrawled upon it : 

“ Dont lay it up against me for litein out like this. But I found 
I had pressin bizness in the city when I found you was on to me. 
You are a sharp one. How did you ever guess I was a jail-bird ?” 
(Miss Lucinda clutched the doctor’s arm.) “ But I aint bad all threw 
as you will find by lookin in that box on the piller.” (Here the doctor 
seized the box, cut the cord which bound it, and shook out the contents 
on the bed. Miss Lucinda stared in a dazed way at her own necklace 
of amethyst and pearls which lay in a little heap before her.) “I 
warnt on that train that got busted at all. I was goin threw Faxton 
and I seen the light in yer winder and you afore the glass a riggin 
yerself up ter kill.” (The spinster’s very ears grew pink.) “ I 
watched you put away your jewels and I got in the winder while you 
was goin round the house, and took em. Then I cut acrost the fields 
and as I was stoppin to let the train go by that blasted injine broke 
and somethin hit me on the head. I didnt know nothin more till I 
found that old fool of a doctor had got me tucked up here in bed. 
Then I couldnt seem to git away. You and him was always watchin 
me. But you can take yer oath I shant never forgit how good you 
was to me. You have been a reel mother and I shall always think of 
yer like that ” 

“A mother!” breathed the spinster, faintly. “A mother!” And 
when the doctor had gone, Miss Lucinda knelt down by the hearth 
and watched her only love-letter crumble away to a heap of feathery 
ashes. 

Marjorie Richardson. 


NOVEMBER. 

T HE year wanes not in sadness or dejection, 

But with the thoughtfulness of retrospection. 

Grace F. Pennypacker. 


WITH THE OYSTER POLICE. 


699 


WITH. THE OYSTER POLICE. 

I N spite of the fact that it is sometimes possible to step onto the 
high street of Crisfield at twelve o’clock noon and fail to discover 
indications of animate existence, this little Maryland town, located on 
the eastern shore of the Chesapeake Bay, possesses claims to distinction 
which every epicure will regard with profound respect. It is the 
geographical centre of the habitat of the diamond-back terrapin, and 
boasts the largest annual capture and shipment of this aristocratic 
reptile. It was here that an ingenious process was discovered for 
causing crabs to shed their shells on short notice, thus creating the 
possibility of unlimited soft crabs on demand. Crisfield has tried the 
experiment of frog- farming, with problematical success. Boats come 
to its wharves laden with freshly caught cargoes of shad, sea-trout, 
bay-mackerel, and fat- backs, — the last a little, round, unsung fish, a 
taste for which should never be acquired, as it will thereafter be an 
inextinguishable hunger and fever in the blood. The small number of 
fat-backs taken, combined with the characteristic disinclination of the 
Marylander to sell anything that can be eaten at home, may render 
this warning superfluous, for it is probable that the fat-back, laid open 
and browned to the exact color of an oak-leaf after it has been touched 
by three black frosts, will forever remain a delicacy peculiar to the 
Eastern Shore. 

From the windows of Crisfield homes it is possible to observe the 
short aquatic flights of wild ducks and Canada geese; and the finest 
oyster-ground in the world lies just off the town. The men of the 
village are in turn fishermen, crabbers, terrapin-catchers, duck-gunners, 
and oyster- tongers, according to the season and the exigencies of the 
weather; and they literally scoop, tong, seine, dredge, and drag their 
living from the waters of the great bay, which washes in miniature 
waves against their moss-grown wharves. 

Hastening down to the water-front of Crisfield, one afternoon in 
the winter of 1891, I noticed that the habitual quietude of the town 
was strangely disturbed. Knots of weather-beaten men occupied the 
corners, stragglers with guns on their shoulders were moving in the 
direction of the bay, women were hurrying from door to door, and the 
whole street was pervaded by an air of preparation, possibly not un- 
familiar to those whose memories embrace the year 1861. The frag- 
ments of conversations which came to my ears were not unmarked by 
profanity, and the words “ oysters,” “ pirates,” “ line,” “ Virginia,” and 
“ Maryland” seemed to predominate. Circumstances did not permit me 
to pause for the purpose of inquiring into the cause of this excitement ; 
at which, in truth, I could make a tolerably correct guess, for the con- 
flict known in local annals as “the Pocomoke oyster war” was then 
waging, and Crisfield was the basis of naval operations from the 
Maryland side. My reason for haste lay in the fact that I carried a 
letter from an influential State official, requesting the captain of the 


700 


WITH THE OYSTER POLICE. 


oyster police sloop Daisy Archer to take me aboard as a passenger for 
the space of the twenty-four hours following the receipt of the note, or 
as much longer as circumstances might determine ; and I feared that 
any delay would reduce the chances of finding the boat at her day- 
anchorage in Crisfield harbor. 

Arriving at the wharf, my fears were dispelled by seeing the sloop 
lying a quarter of a mile out and making no visible preparations for 
immediate departure. The offer of a gratuity procured the services of 
a boatman, who fulfilled his promise of putting me aboard in less than 
ten minutes. 

“ Air yo’ one o’ the oyster p’lice?” he inquired, as he reached for- 
ward for a stroke. 

“ No. I am simply going to take passage for a few hours on the 
sloop.” 

“ Better think twice’ t about it, ’less yo’ has partic’lar business down 
the Sound. That boat’s goin’ ter see trouble ’fore mornin’.” 

As the skiff a couple of minutes later touched the low, black side 
of the sloop, I had no opportunity of inquiring particularly into the 
basis of the man’s apprehensions. Climbing over the gunwale and 
asking for the captain, one of the crew conducted me into the small but 
comfortably furnished cabin, and introduced me to Captain Hudson, a 
spare but kindly-smiling man, who welcomed me with a courtesy that 
deepened into cordiality when he had examined the credentials which 
I presented. 

“So you want to take passage on the Archer? Well, you come at 
a good time, — that is, if you are fond of excitement. We have our 
hands full of this oyster war. I received a telegram from below, this 
afternoon, saying that the Virginia boatmen were gathering in force to 
make a raid into what we consider Maryland waters. If this infor- 
mation proves correct, there will probably be a battle on the Pocomoke 
Sound to-night. What was the feeling in Crisfield when you left?” 

“The town seemed to be unusually alive.” 

“ It’s the same all along the shore. Every oysterman who goes 
out is armed to the teeth, and there have been not less than a hundred 
shots exchanged on the Sound during the past week.” 

“ Captain,” I said, “ I should like some preliminary information 
regarding the merits of the interstate controversy which has assumed 
such a warlike aspect.” 

“ I shall be glad to give you the benefit of such knowledge as I 
possess, if you will first excuse me for a few minutes while I go on 
deck and give orders for getting under way. The police steamer, 
Governor McLane, broke her propeller last night, and is now on the 
way to Baltimore, in tow of a tug. The sloop ordered from Annapolis 
to take her place cannot possibly arrive in less than thirty-six hours ; 
in the mean time the Daisy Archer will have to fight this battle single- 
handed. Better come on deck and take a look at my boat.” 

It was evident at a glance that the Archer was built for speed 
rather than stability or capacity. Allowing for a little extra breadth 
of beam, her build was precisely that of a shallow-draught, forty-five- 
foot racing yacht; and, as the mainsail slowly rose on the mast, I 


WITH THE OYSTER POLICE. 


701 


roughly estimated its area as well up toward a thousand square feet. 
A small brass gun on the forward deck was the only indication that 
the sloop was designed for offensive purposes ; though the rifles and 
revolvers which I had noticed in the cabin were sufficient to remove 
any impression that the Archer was merely a pleasure-boat. 

“This whole trouble,” said the captain, “originated in a piece of 
negligent surveying. You are aware that the lower end of the great 
peninsula which separates the Chesapeake from the ocean belongs to 
Virginia. The boundary-line between that State and Maryland begins 
at the Atlantic, runs due west until it strikes the Pocomoke River, at 
or near its mouth, turns sharply to the southwest, and then, somewhere 
out in the bay, is again deflected toward the mouth of the Potomac. 
In other words, the line zigzags across the Chesapeake, and to-day, the 
record of the original survey being lost, it is impossible to locate the 
points of these angles or authoritatively to declare the number of 
degrees they contain. In spite of numerous attempts at arbitration, 
the line between Maryland and Virginia, so far as this marine territory 
is concerned, is still undetermined. Maryland contends that begin- 
ning at the mouth of the Pocomoke the line runs southwest at an 
angle of about forty-five degrees, exactly bisecting Pocomoke Sound, 
and so continues to the middle of the bay. Virginia, on the principle 
that the portion of the Chesapeake which lies directly between her 
eastern and western shores belongs to her, holds that, beginning at the 
same point, the line makes an angle of not more than five degrees to 
the southwest, thus just escaping the most southerly point of Maryland 
territory. This leaves a triangular section of the bay disputed property. 
The base of this triangle is twelve and its sides sixteen miles long, 
and the angle of the apex, in the mouth of the Pocomoke, is nearly 
forty degrees. 

“ For more than a century this fact was considered of no importance, 
the authorities of the two States never dreaming that it would ever 
become the subject of dispute. But the discovery of the possibility of 
growing oysters in artificial beds threw a new light on the situation, 
for those interested soon ascertained that this territory was, for its 
size, one of the most valuable oyster-grounds in the world. This is 
peculiarly true of the Sound upon whose waters we are now sailing. 
It is almost completely landlocked, that chain of islands in the west 
forming a natural breakwater which shields it from the rough waves 
outside. It is of uniform and favorable depth, and certainly not in 
the Chesapeake, perhaps not in the United States, would it be pos- 
sible to find a bit of ground so well adapted to the laying down of 
oysters. Warrants covering it have been issued both by Maryland 
and Virginia, each assuming an undisputed ownership; and, as the 
neighboring citizens of the two States who hold these conflicting 
guarantees have made frequent complaints of territorial invasion, the 
contending commonwealths, pending further arbitration, have deter- 
mined to support their rights by force. This explains the presence of 
armed police sloops in these waters.” 

“ You are empowered, then ?” 

“ My orders are to repel any invasion, by citizens of Virginia, of 


702 


WITH THE OYSTER POLICE. 


territory to which Maryland lays claim, and to support the people of 
my State in the enjoyment of the rights defined by the warrants in 
their possession.” 

“ What number of warrants have been issued ?” 

“ They are held by hundreds of oystermen in each State. Only a 
limited section, comprising about six acres, is assigned to each indi- 
vidual, and these waters are amply broad enough to accommodate all 
who may apply. It is impossible to exaggerate the bitterness which 
has thus been aroused. It is as though two parties laid claim to the 
same piece of valuable farming or mining land and each side had 
assembled its retainers for the purpose of resisting aggression by the 
other.” 

During the progress of this conversation the Archer was running 
rapidly down the Sound, under the influence of a fresh easterly breeze, 
which, however, seemed to be moderating with the sinking of the sun 
toward the horizon. I called the captain’s attention to the remarkably 
large number of sloops and little fore-and-aft-rigged bateaux that were 
putting out from the coves and creeks along shore. 

“ Yes,” he replied, “ and every man in those boats has a musket 
lying at his feet. Entertaining a well-founded distrust of our ability 
to repel the pirates, for so oyster thieves are called, they are going 
down to protect their individual beds ; though it is quite possible that 
some of them are actuated by curiosity, or even by the mere love of 
fighting. Many of these people have their entire worldly capital 
invested in the waters of this Sound ; and to the fact that they are, as 
a consequence of their exposed life, rough and desperate men, you 
must add the consideration that they are literally contending for their 
only reliable means of subsistence, their fishing and crabbing being 
merely side-issues to the great business of oystering.” 

“ Bring up the guns and ammunition,” ordered the commander, 
addressing two of the crew, who were leaning against the great boom 
which obliquely traversed the deck. 

The men lifted a hatchway located just abaft the mast, and, from 
a miniature magazine, handed up a number of small bags containing 
cannon-powder, and some solid shot, apparently about an inch in 
diameter. Having deposited these in an iron chest in the rear of the 
gun, they proceeded to bring up from the cabin a dozen Winchester 
rifles, which they placed in racks arranged for the purpose at convenient 
points about the deck. 

“ In case we get into a skirmish,” said Captain Hudson, u and you 
do not fancy being shot at without returning the fire, you are at perfect 
liberty to use any of these weapons. The magazines are full, and each 
of them is good for thirteen shots.” 

“ An inauspicious number, captain.” 

“ Yes,” he replied, “ but more unlucky for the man at the muzzle 
than for the man at the breech.” 

There could be no doubt that, so far as preparations aboard the 
Daisy Archer counted, the situation was rapidly assuming a decidedly 
warlike appearance. The jib was hauled down and snugly lashed, lest 
it should interfere with shots over the bow. Four of the crew, well 


WITH THE OYSTER POLICE. 


703 


accustomed to their duties, settled themselves at convenient poiuts 
behind the forward bulwarks; and two others, removing the cover 
from the breech of the brass gun, busied themselves in a minute ex- 
amination of the heavier portion of our armament. 

“Do you really mean to tell me, captain,” I said, impressed by the 
grim air that was beginning to pervade the deck, “ that the Virginia 
oystermen will venture into a territory protected by a boat so well 
armed as this sloop?” 

“You must remember that they have the whole width of this 
Sound in which to manoeuvre, and that it is impossible for us to cover 
a watery surface of at least seventy-five square miles. While we, as 
at present, are skirting the eastward shore, a dozen boats may slip past 
us, under cover of those islands, load with stolen oysters, and get back 
within the jurisdiction of Virginia, before we are even aware of their 
presence on this side of the line.” 

During all this time, possibly two hours, the sloop had been gradu- 
ally eating her way into the wind, and approaching the mouth of the 
Pocomoke River. Now the helm was put to starboard, the sheet 
squared, and, at accelerated speed, we dashed off to the southwest. 

“We are going down the line now,” said the captain. “The 
Maryland oystermen are instructed that they must not approach within 
two miles of the boundary, that there may be no danger of the police 
mistaking them for invaders. Any sail appearing in the west or south 
is likely to be that of a pirate.” 

For the next hundred minutes silence and darkness reigned on the 
deck. The freshening breeze urged the little sloop through the water 
at a tremendous rate, sometimes dashing her bow beneath the crest of 
one of the short waves ahead and covering the men forward with 
semi-saline spray. Occasionally a moving congeries of lights appeared 
in the west, indicating the presence of a steamer in the main channel 
up and down the bay, and once or twice the fierce beam of an electric 
search-light swept across our sail. 

“If the pirates are out to-night they are keeping very quiet,” 
remarked the commander, as he ordered the steersman to put the sloop 
about. “We can run no further in this direction without bumping 
into an island. We must work to eastward again, and come back over 
the same course.” 

On this new tack we showed a light ahead, for it carried us through 
the fleet of Maryland boats, some of which we were dimly able to dis- 
tinguish, lying at anchor, but with all sails set. An occasional hail 
floated over the water to our ears, and sometimes an oath seemed to 
form itself out of the darkness and come hurtling across the deck, 
generally originating in the vicinity of some boat whose berth was too 
closely threatened by our rushing prow. A series of short tacks carried 
us back into the broad mouth of the river, and at twelve forty-five the 
boom was again squared for the run down the line. 

“ All eyes open now !” was the order. 

The darkness was lifting a little, auspicious of moonrise, and, as a 
light that grew almost into a dawn was gradually diffused over the 
surface of the water, our vision, made acute by long peering through 


704 


WITH THE OYSTER POLICE. 


the darkness, caught the glint of many sails, directly ahead and sweep- 
ing in a great half-circle toward the southeast. 

“ Great Caesar !” ejaculated the captain. “ The pirates are really 
coming in force. The whole Virginia fleet seems to be bearing down 
upon us. Is that gun all right ?” 

“ Ay, ay, sir !” 

“ Stand by, ready for a shot. Are you in your places forward 
there ?” 

“ Ay, ay, sir !” came in chorus from the four men who were assigned 
to duty along the gunwale. 

“ Don’t fire till I give the word ; then aim midway of their sails.” 

The notes of preparation were still sounding as we dashed into the 
advance guard of the piratical fleet, this skirmish line consisting of 
five small sloops, the largest of which was not more than twenty-five 
or twenty-eight feet long. 

“ Boats ahoy !” shouted the commander of the Archer, addressing 
those within hailing distance. “ You must leave these waters. About, 
there, and hurry !” 

It was evident that the Virginians were making a concerted move- 
ment upon the oyster grounds, for the sloops calmly disregarded the 
order;, nor did they deign a reply to the repeated hails which the 
captain flung right and left at the boats which were within range of 
his long-distance voice. This indifference had no salutary effect upon 
the temper of the commander, and his accents rapidly changed from 
the mildly persuasive to the roughly imperative. 

a Get back there !” he roared. “ Put about, or I’ll fire on you !” 

It was, perhaps, fear of the police sloop’s gun which prevented the 
oystermen from replying in the terms characteristic of their profession ; 
but terror of the brass one-pounder did not rise to the degree which 
induces precipitate flight, for the northward movement of the boats 
was not interrupted. 

“ This is one of the difficulties with which we have to contend,” 
said the captain. “ It would be easy for us to capture a few of these 
boats, but that would have no effect upon the others, which, as you 
observe, are scattered in a line five or six miles long. The only thing 
possible is to get the advance guard on the run, and thus strike a panic 
into the fleet.” 

“ Starboard your helm,” he called to the man at the wheel. 

“ Starboard ’tis.” 

“ Haul the sheet in flat.” 

“ Flat ’tis.” 

“ Hold her on that upper sloop.” 

“ Ay, ay, sir !” 

By this time the boat which led the fleet was some distance away, 
but we rapidly overhauled her, and in ten minutes we were close on 
her quarter. 

“ Aim for her mast,” was the order. “ Are you ready? Fire !” 

There was a flash, a roar, and a great cloud of white powder-smoke 
floating to leeward. The piratical sloop had a gaping hole in her 
canvas, and that was all. Not quite all, either ; for, like miniature 


WITH THE OYSTER POLICE. 


705 


echoes from the bends of the surrounding sails, four rifle-shots rang 
out in quick succession, and as many bullets whistled across the deck 
of the Archer, one traversing the cabin in its flight. 

“ They’re showing their teeth !” cried the captain. “ Try another 
shot, and see if you can’t chip a mast this time. You boys along the 
gunwale there, fire at every flash you see, and aim low : we must show 
’em that we mean business.” 

For the next twenty minutes the Daisy Archer was transformed 
into a veritable sloop of war. The little cannon barked almost as fast 
as it could be loaded and aimed, and the intervals were punctuated by 
the sharp reports of the rifles along the sides. Crouching on the deck, 
by advice of the captain, lest I should chance to interpose a physical 
obstruction to one of the bullets, which passed with a peculiar and 
unpleasant, tearing sound through our mainsail, I could not well 
observe the destructive effects of the successive discharges ; but I was 
soon convinced that our gunners were not so practised in their art as 
some of whom we read in the history of naval warfare. No cheer 
proclaimed that one of the enemy’s masts had gone by the board, and 
no “ Ha, ha ! we hulled her that time !” was wafted to my ears from 
the forward deck. Indeed, I imagine that, in ^spite of our heavier 
armament, the Archer, overborne by superior numbers, would have 
come off second-best in the conflict had we not received unexpected 
reinforcements. The Maryland oystermen, whose boats were lying at 
a distance not exceeding a mile and a half from the battle-ground, 
attracted by the firing, raised their anchors and came sailing down, 
only too eager to witness and participate in the fight. 

With their arrival the conflict became general. The moonlit surface 
of the Sound was transformed into a scene of indescribable confusion. 
I roughly estimated that at least forty sloops, each manned by two or 
three riflemen, were engaged. To the eastward, as far as the eye could 
see, the semi-darkness was pierced by quick flashes ; and as the police 
boat darted hither and thither, wherever the combat was thickest, our 
arrival was hailed by about equal proportions of cheers and hoots ; and 
more than one Virginia pirate that night, after consigning the Archer 
and her crew to Hadean regions, did his best to accomplish the fulfil- 
ment of his maledictions in behalf of those of our number who were 
unprepared for such a rapid transition. 

The presence of the police sloop, however, served to turn the scale 
in favor of the Maryland fleet. Half an hour after the firing of the 
first gun the captain called my attention to the fact that some of the 
Virginia boats were in retreat, and with this evidence of defeat the 
thought of flight seemed to pervade the hostile squadron. Sloop after 
sloop put about and, with quartering sheet, fled to the south, firing a 
few parting shots over the stern. 

Our gunners, in vindication of their prowess, pointed triumphantly 
to the fact that one of the enemy’s boats was disabled by a shot which 
parted her halyards, thus rendering her an easy capture. Four others 
were taken by our allies the oystermen, and their crews delivered to 
the police sloop for safe-keeping. Kough fellows they were, and un- 
subdued in spirit, even under the stress of captivity in the cabin and 
Vol. LVL— 45 


706 


A POET. 


with the prospect of six months in the workhouse stretching away 
before them. 

With five confiscated boats, in charge of improvised Maryland 
crews, following in our wake, we worked slowly back to Crisfield 
harbor, where we cast anchor an hour after sunrise. After expressing 
my gratitude for the cordial but dangerous hospitality of Captain 
Hudson, and commending the courage of the crew, I escaped to the 
shore and a hotel, where an accommodating landlord won my undying 
regard by furnishing me with an extra supply of blankets, wherewith 
to thaw the water-chill out of my bones. 

I believe that, with the possible exception of similar incidents 
attending the disputed seal-fisheries in Behring Sea, this is the only 
occasion since the close of the civil war upon which a cannon has been 
fired, with hostile intent, in territory belonging to the United States. 

j David Bruce Fitzgerald. 


A POET : 

T HE angels had fashioned a human soul ; and they brought it be- 
fore the Lord of Life, that he might lay his hand upon it and bid 
it live. And as the Lord of Life laid his hand upon the soul, he spake 
unto the angels, saying, “ Ye have done well. This soul shall be a 
Poet. He shall dwell upon the high places ; he shall know Truth, and 
his love shall be universal.” 

Now, the Soul heard what the Lord of Life said, and as the angels 
bore him down to the earth he remembered the saying, and treasured 
it in his heart. Yet while he dwelt upon the earth as a little child he 
marvelled over the words of the Lord of Life, and could not compre- 
hend them ; but when he had grown to manhood he began to under- 
stand. And when their meaning grew clear to him, he confided to his 
bosom friend what he had heard the Lord of Life say. But his friend 
answered him with a laugh, — 

“ What nonsense ! You have been dreaming. Why, you are but 
such another as myself, who must work for your living here in the 
valley. You have no time to go up to the high places to sing.” 

Then the Poet sighed, and resolved to speak no more of the matter ; 
yet he knew that it was not a dream, that he had really heard those 
great words, and that they had been spoken of his own soul. 

But one day the Poet fell in love with a maid who dwelt near 
him ; and when he had told her of his love, because he would not 
hide anything from her, he told her also what the Lord of Life had 
said. 

Then tears came into the eyes of the maiden, and she spoke sadly : 
“ What the Lord of Life hath uttered must be true. Leave me. Go 
up into the high places ; learn to know Truth, and let thy love be uni- 
versal. Though it break my heart, I must bid thee go.” 


A POET. 


707 


“ Nay,” he answered, “ I will not leave thee. If it had been for 
me to walk in the high places, I should not have been born in the 
valley. Truth hath not been revealed unto me, nor is my love univer- 
sal, but for thee alone. The Lord of Life hath lied.” 

Then the maiden shuddered, and said, “ Blaspheme not the Lord 
of Life. Go up, I say, go up into the high places, and there inquire 
of him what he would have thee do. Go up into the high places. 
Though it break my heart, I must bid thee go.” 

Then the Poet answered her lightly, “ Since you wish it, be- 
loved, I will go. But when I inquire of the Lord of Life if I am 
to be a Poet, he will mock me, saying, ‘Hast thou known Truth at 
all? Or is thy love universal ?’ I shall return to thee ere the night 
falleth” 

Then the Poet went up into the high places and cried aloud, saying, 
“ O Lord of Life, what wouldst thou have me do ? Is it thy will that 
I should be a poet ?” 

And the Lord of Life answered, “ Even so.” 

Then the Poet marvelled, and would not yet believe but that the 
Lord of Life mocked him. And he sought to reason even against the 
Lord of Life, saying, — 

“ It cannot be that I shall sing upon the heights, for I was born 
but in a valley, and it is hard for me to climb.” 

The Lord of Life answered, “ Yea, it is hard ; but it is possible.” 

“ But I know not what Truth is like at all.” 

“ Long shalt thou seek for Truth, and shalt find it after many 
years.” 

“ But my love is not universal. I love only the maid who dwells 
in the valley below. I pray thee, O Lord of Life, let me return unto 
her. It is not for me to be a poet.” 

Then the Lord of Life spake sternly : 

“ Thou shalt return to the valley no more. Thy life-work awaits 
thee.” 

Now, when the Poet heard that he should see his beloved no more, 
he was sorely grieved ; and he reproached the Lord of Life, saying, 
“ If it was written from the beginning that I should be a Poet, why 
hast thou thus dealt with me? Why was I born in the valley, and not 
upon the heights? And why do I love the maiden so ? Through this 
has great anguish come upon me, and a longing that will not cease.” 

Then the Lord of Life laid his hand gently upon the Poet, and 
comforted him. And when he had comforted him, he said, — 

“ Through the pain and the longing that are in thy heart, thou 
shalt learn the pain and the longing of all humanity. And when thou 
hast learned that, thy lips will be opened, and thou shalt sing a mar- 
vellous song. And they who dwell in the valley below shall hear thy 
song, and bless thee for it. For because thou wast born in the valley, 
and lovest the maiden thereof, thy song shall be even such a song as all 
men desire to hear.” 

And it came to pass even as the Lord of Life had said. 

Geraldine Meyrick. 


708 


THE PET MEANNESS. 


THE PET MEANNESS. 

I T is a very curious thing that everybody, nearly, has a rooted 
aversion to giving away some one thing. No matter how gen- 
erous the man or the woman may be, in this one thing he or she is a 
miser. 

Baron James Rothschild did not in the least mind giving thousands 
of dollars to a hospital, tens of thousands in dozens of directions ; but 
when it came to stamps, the great financier, it is said, could not bear to 
pay the postage on his private letters, but would send them at the ex- 
pense of the firm. With u Madame Ch&re Mere/’ in one of Frederika 
Bremer’s charming stories, it was lace. She could give her children 
houses and lands, and to yield them fields and farms did not cause her 
a pang ; but when it became a question of duchess “ point” she con- 
fessed that nothing could be more painful than to part from the least 
bit of it. 

One of the richest women in this country hoards matches as if 
they were so many wands studded with diamonds. She will give one 
or two, under protest, to a relative in need of them, but she buys 
them by the gross, and lights and relights them until the last charred 
bit falls off*, leaving her often with burnt fingers and a regretful wish 
that “ she could have used that one once more.” When her children 
come of age, she gives each of them two hundred thousand dollars 
with the greatest possible cheerfulness, but if they were to ask her for 
a whole box of matches she would feel that she was being impoverished, 
and if they took six, that she was being robbed. 

Then there is the well-known case of the millionaire who supports 
a newsboys’ home, but will never buy a paper unless he can beat down 
the boy who is selling it and get it at half-price, — after which he not 
infrequently presents him with a quarter. If one could lay bare the 
secret motives and springs of action exposed in such cases, it would be 
curious to see how far habit, prejudice, and mania affect each case. 
One woman, with a davenport stuffed full of writing-materials, can’t 
bear to lend an envelope ; another draws the line at needles, though 
she has more packets of them than she will ever open, and a bank- 
account that insures her thousands more if she should need them. 
One man will give his friend a horse that costs fifteen hundred dollars, 
and begrudge him a single ivory shirt-stud. Another will give a 
handsome dinner to twenty people, that will cost him hundreds, and 
feel it an affliction to pay a car-fare. Still another has been known to 
buy a yacht, provision it, sail around the world with it, entertain suc- 
cessive sets of people on it in the handsomest style, and pay all his 
bills for these expenses with the most praiseworthy regularity, except 
those for black pepper. Bands to play on board, bunting to decorate 
the yards, expensive suppers for any number of people, wines by the 
dozen hampers, flowers enough to fill the hugest conservatory, additional 
servants, tons of coal, an extra launch, will all pass unnoticed, un- 


THE PET MEANNESS. 


709 


challenged ; but when it comes to pepper he makes notes, consults 
cook-books, summons cooks, makes his steward’s life a burden to him, 
— so much so that he has been known to have nine of these indis- 
pensable functionaries in his employment in the course of five seasons. 
Unlike the Chevalier Xavier de St.-Foix, “ sans six sous y et sans souci,” 
he makes himself miserable over the minnow, and swallows the whales 
without making a single face. He will have pepper, but it must be 
got below the market price all over the world, and must be used as he 
uses it ; that is, as if it were gold-dust instead. 

Shoes were the pet meanness of a distinguished English nobleman 
whose ground-rents in London alone would have shod all its inhabi- 
tants for centuries to come. It is related of him that he once took his 
favorite pair in person to a cobbler, and that after carefully examining 
them the man said to him, “ I never saw the like since I’ve been at 
the business. You are either the greatest pauper in England, or the 
Marquis of .” 

“ I am the marquis, not the pauper,” said his lordship, and, far 
from being offended, seemed greatly amused. To mount a new pair 
of shoe-strings, even, is pain and grief to him, and a new pair of shoes 
always brings on a violent fit of gout, so vehemently is he opposed to 
the sad necessity of donning them at all. 

Lord Eldon was a peer of this pattern, only he proceeded to the 
other extremity, and would never allow his wife and daughters but one 
bonnet between them. One wonders what pretty Betty Surtees saw in 
him to induce her to elope with him, cost what it might. 

There is a Frenchman whose eccentricity in respect of a pet mean- 
ness is very often commented upon in Paris ; for, though he has a 
model establishment and positively rolls in money, he cannot bear to 
use towels freely, — his own or his neighbors’. It is said that upon 
staying at one of the old castles of Brittany for a week he took his 
hostess aside privately and showed her over three dozen towels that he 
had been gloating over for days. “ All these, madame, I have saved,” 
he remarked, with great delight. “ Your servants put them in my 
room, it is true, but I and my wife have only used one between us. 
Servants are careless, wasteful creatures : I return the rest.” 

A thoroughly consistent “ crank,” this, for most people’s economies 
become extravagances when the property of other people is in question. 
Indeed, with a great number of persons the pet meanness assumes that 
very form. Who has not known them — the people who save their 
own books and dog’s-ear yours ; the lady who locks up her own hair- 
pins and pockets three packages in the room where she is billeted as a 
guest; the man who saves all his own cigars and helps himself to a 
most disgusting extent to those of his host; the neighbor who will not 
risk her velvet coat in a snow-storm, but borrows her cousin’s without 
the least anxiety ? It is but “ doing unto others as you would they 
should do unto you” wrong side out; but there are sensitive souls that 
resent this form of selfishness more than any other. 

There have been some truly sublime examples of that kind of 
thing. The most harrowing that I can recall is that of, let us say, 
Mrs. A., who sent a note to Mrs. B. asking for the loan of a lace 


710 


THE PET MEANNESS. 


flounce. It was accorded, with the understanding that it was to appear 
at a certain fancy-ball and then to be promptly returned. The ball 
came otf in due season, and, as it happened, a death occurred in Mrs. 
B.’s family that week, so that her thoughts were not of flounces for 
some time. When she did remember the matter, she wrote a note to 
Mrs. A., and received in return a small parcel of lace done up in a 
very soiled sheet of paper. She opened it, and found a number of 
strips of black lace, cut into short lengths, — no note, apology, or ex- 
planation. She recognized the pattern of her white lace flounce, valued 
at five thousand dollars. The only thing Mrs. A. ever said about the 
affair was naive in the extreme. “ Why, what did she expect? My 
dress was a red satin Spanish one. It would have ruined the costume 
to put white lace on it. I couldn’t think of such a thing. I wouldn’t 
make a fright of myself for anybody, and I couldn’t cut mine.” 
There was a very pretty quarrel, you may be sure, a scandal, a suit ; 
but Mrs. A. remained unconvicted of a pet meanness, though she had 
a valuable collection of laces of many kinds, black and white. 

All these are but cases of arrested development in mania, and that 
miserliness which has been called the safe form of madness. Old 
Elwes blowing out his rushlight when his friend came to see him 
(also a miser), because he could “ talk just as well in the dark,” is but 
the rounded and perfect exponent of the same principle of action 
pushed to its utmost extreme. And curious it is to think that every 
one of us is a potential miser when he cries, “ Oh, don’t touch that 
See here ! Come away ! I’ll give you anything else, but don’t ask 

me for ” (some trivial, absurd thing). There are people who 

can’t bear to part with a pin. There are people who can’t stand the 
idea of separating from a cake of soap. There are people who pine 
miserably at the thought of giving away a pill. None of them, how- 
ever, would mind giving advice to anybody who could be induced to 
receive — I will not say act on — it ; and it is about the only thing of 
little or no importance (as a rule) that people are willing to part with 
freely, though economy in this direction would be appreciated by large 
numbers of youths and maidens, servants and children, bankrupts and 
invalids. 

As a rule, too, it is only among the prosperous that one finds the 
pet meanness. The poor haven’t time to develop fads of any kind ; 
they never have much of anything, but they give of their little in a 
way that puts their richer neighbors to the blush. 

The most amusing instance I can recall of the effect of a suddenly 
acquired fortune upon a pet meanness is that told by an English 
author about an old woman in an almshouse who came into a million 
by a Chancery decision that had been pending a hundred years. She 
bought everything that money could buy, — silks, velvets, laces, furs, 
estates, carriages, horses, soi-disant friends even. She threw away 
her bank-notes upon everything imaginable, in a kind of frenzy of 
possession. But when it came to tea, she suffered : she debated, she 
chaffered, but she never could make up her mind to buy and pay for, 
at any one time, more than a “ quarter of a pound of good black Bohea.” 
She would have felt beggared by a pound of any tea at any price ; it 


A BRUSH WITH KIOWAS. 


711 


had always been so precious to her that she had lost all sense of its 
intrinsic value. Perhaps it represented to some extent the bright un- 
attainable, without which life has no zest. 

Frances Courtenay Baylor. 


A BRUSH WITH KIOWAS . 

W HILE on a prospecting tour through the Indian Territory in the 
fall of 1856, we stopped one day, for the usual “nooning,” on 
the bank of the Arkansas River, a dozen miles or so below Bent’s 
Fort, at which we had, the day before, attended a grand powwow of 
traders and Kiowa Indians. Some members of this tribe, despite the 
sturdy denials of those present at the palaver, were known to have 
lately massacred small parties of white immigrants. 

My companions were Colonel Henry King, still living, and his 
younger brother Dan ; while, to take care of our big supply-wagon, 
four mules, and three saddle-horses, we had two servants, — one an 
Irishman named Mike Grogan, the other a Georgia negro called Sam. 
Though fairly good men in their way, these two were perhaps the 
most comical and blundering pair that ever furnished amusement 
for and tried the patience of any company of travellers. Neither 
could use a gun to any purpose, — they carried none, in fact, — and 
hence there were but three of us to withstand any attack of wandering 
savages. 

At that time breech-loading repeating guns had not been intro- 
duced ; but, besides our revolvers, Dan King and I were armed with 
single muzzle-loaders, while the colonel rejoiced in the possession of a 
fearfully heavy double rifle, expressly made for him out of two Spring- 
field barrels, forming a rather clumsy but most effective weapon. 

After dining and enjoying a two hours’ rest, we were about to hitch 
up the wagon mules again and resaddle our horses for the road, when, 
suddenly emerging from an adjacent belt of timber, there rode up to 
us a band of fourteen war-painted Kiowas, all armed with flint-lock 
smooth-bore guns. Among them we instantly recognized a chief who 
had been especially emphatic in protestations of friendship during the 
powwow at the fort. 

The mere presence of these warriors conclusively proved that they 
had purposely followed our trail, and, versed in Indian ways as we 
were, it hardly needed their surly, lowering looks and guileful manner 
to convince us that mischief was brewing and that our lives were 
in imminent danger. Dismounting in ominous silence, the fellows 
attempted to mingle with us; but our leader, Colonel King, sternly 
ordered them off, in the same breath telling Mike and Sam to huddle 
the animals*up in a bunch by the wagon and keep guard over them. 
Meantime, we three stood, with poised rifles, awaiting the first overt 
act on the part of the savages, who, somewhat taken aback by our 
coolness, now handled their antiquated guns in an irresolute though 
still threatening manner. 


712 


A BRUSH WITH KIOWAS. 


Just at this moment a lone pelican, slowly floating on outstretched, 
fixed wings, came sailing down the river, at a distance of about one 
hundred yards from us, and, apparently, seventy yards high. 

Moved by an impulse for which, as he has often since said, he 
could never account, the colonel threw up his rifle and fired at the 
bird, which, greatly to our surprise, though we well knew our com- 
rade’s skill, whirled over and over, came toppling down, and fell into 
the water with a splash. 

“ Be jabers, kurnel, that was a grand shot intoirely ! Shure it’s 
yersilf has the ilegant eye in yer head !” exclaimed Mike, while Sam’s 
delighted grin well-nigh made an islet of his wool-crowned skull. 

The utter unexpectedness of the shot and the still more unexpected 
sight of the falling pelican seemed to temporarily paralyze the Iviowas. 
Then the chief broke out into a fit of half-silly laughter and clapped 
his hand to his mouth with a long, guttural grunt, the other braves 
dutifully following suit, as the whole crowd gazed at the lucky marks- 
man with mingled respect and astonishment, casting their eyes from 
him to the pelican, from the latter to him again, and once more cover- 
ing their mouths while emitting another series of those peculiar grunts 
by which wild Indians express unbounded amazement. 

Seeing the effect on their minds, I told Mike to ride into the river, 
here quite shallow, and bring the bird ashore. But never for the frac- 
tion of a second did young King and I, presently reinforced by the 
colonel (it was wonderful how quickly we could in those days recharge 
our muzzle-loaders), cease to cover the gaping savages, not one of whom 
dared to point his weapon in our direction ; for all fully realized that, 
whatever its final outcome, a present attack would inevitably result in 
instant death to at least four of them. 

When Mike returned with the pelican, we saw that the shot had 
chanced to be a centre one, the half-ounce ball having entered under 
one wing and come out above the other. This fact intensified the sur- 
prise and awe of the redskins, who probably reasoned that men who 
could shoot like that were customers too dangerous to meddle with. 

After silently examining the bullet-hole, there was a renewed round 
of grunting and a deal of jabbering in Kiowa among themselves, the 
result being that, without having spoken one word to us, the whole 
squad remounted and rode away. Undoubtedly the fortunate killing 
of the hapless pelican had postponed, if not entirely averted, the pur- 
posed attack upon us. 

But now blundering Mike’s native valor overcame his acquired 
discretion. He still bestrode one of our fastest horses, and as the 
Indians scampered off he rode after them, tauntingly yelling, “ Scoot! 
ye bloody haythins, scoot ! Shure it’s yersilves darsent tackle four 
white jintlemen an’ one naygur!” 

There came precious near being only three “ white jintlemen” left, 
however; for, in spite of our recalling shouts, Mike kept on after the 
Kiowas, until, at a distance of six hundred yards from us and about 
fifty ahead of their mocking pursuer, four of the rearward warriors 
suddenly whirled around and dashed straight at him. Two of their 
hastily fired bullets passed harmlessly through his clothing, and, before 


A BRUSH WITH K10WAS. 713 

lie could check and turn his horse, four viciously thrown tomahawks 
flashed perilously near his head. 

This was too much for the redoubtable Grogan. Screeching like 
a scared coyote, he threw himself flat on the thoroughbred’s neck, dug 
his unspurred heels into the animal’s flanks, and came tearing back to 
us a most demoralized Irishman. Luckily, his fine-limbed Kentucky 
horse had proved too fleet for the ponies of the Indians, who, before 
coming within sure range of our rifles, wheeled off in sullen retreat. 

“ Goramighty, Mike, you purty near done lose dat red hair ob 
yourn !” chuckled Sam, as the frightened teamster scrambled to the 
ground. 

“ Bedad, thin, Sambo, the likes ’ll niver happen to your wool, for, 
it’s gospel truth, thim rampajus vagabones doesn’t condesind to scalp 
naygurs,” retorted Mike, with entire truth. 

“ Quit your fooling, men, and hitch up at once,” ordered Colonel 
King. “We’ve not seen the last of those redskins. There’s good 
camping-ground on the West Branch, about fifteen miles from here, 
and we must reach it before dark.” 

Putting both pairs of mules to the wagon, and driving steadily on, 
we accomplished this distance easily enough, and by sundown had 
forded the branch : all experienced plainsmen made it an invariable 
rule to cross any encountered stream before camping for the night. 

“ There’s one comfort,” observed the younger King, as we sat at 
supper : “ if the reds try a raid on us they’ll have to make some noise in 
splashing through the water ; so we can’t well be taken by surprise.” 

“ Don’t flatter yourself with that idea, Dan,” replied his brother. 
“ Indians on the war-path are not usually polite enough to give warn- 
ing. These rascals will cross the river higher up and sneak down on 
us quiet as death. Kiowas, however, seldom attack by night. Just 
before daybreak is their favorite hour for scalp-lifting. But we won’t 
take any chances. After it becomes quite dark, we’ll leave a big fire 
burning here and steal off to some distance. If not taken by surprise, 
we’ve little to fear from a band of that size, for those miserable old 
smooth-bores won’t carry accurately one-half so far as will our re- 
volvers, not to mention the rifles.” 

“ Lord ’a’ massy, kurnel,” interposed our irrepressible darky, “ won’t 
you gib me an’ Mike some shootin’-irons? We mought hit a Injun if 
any ob de varmints comes clos’t ’nuff.” 

“ Why, yes, Sam, you may get a couple of those double-barrelled 
fowling-pieces out of the wagon. They’re all loaded with duck-shot. 
But you mustn’t shoot each other,” laughingly answered the colonel. 

“ Dis chile, nor nobody else, won’t eber shoot Mike, ’kase he’s 
bound ter be hung,” gleefully rejoined Sam. 

“ An’ bad cess till me if I’d washte good lead on a naygur,” pro- 
tested Mike. “ Arrah, the loikes av him’s no game for a jintleman’s 
divarshun : so the two av us is purty safe.” 

The September night closed down oppressively warm, and by nine 
o’clock had grown as black as a wolf’s throat. At that time, after 
heaping two or three old logs on the fire, we moved, with the whole 


714 


A BRUSH WITH KIOWAS. 


outfit, silently away for about one-third of a mile and recamped close 
to a “sink-hole” containing water, which, though now quite low, had, 
during its periodical overflows, scooped out, in the course of ages, a 
narrow, crooked, deep gully down to the river, — furnishing a capital 
shelter for us in case of necessity. 

As we were here enshrouded in intense darkness, not venturing to 
light even a pipe, much less another fire, none of us, except Colonel 
King, were, until hours afterwards, aware of the existence of this 
trench ; but he, knowing every inch of the country, had purposely led 
us to its vicinity. 

After securing the horses and mules to and around the wagon, 
Mike and Sam curled themselves up under it and were soon asleep, 
while we took sentry duty by turns, one of us being always on the 
alert and two resting beneath the canvas cover. Though ourselves 
quite invisible from a distance of ten yards, we could plainly see the 
fire we had left, but nothing more formidable than a prowling wolf 
or two came within its circle of light during the night. 

I happened to be on guard at four o’clock in the morning, and, as 
previously agreed upon, quietly awaked the King brothers at that 
hour. The first lava-like streaks of coming dawn were then appearing 
in the east, but we could still see the now smouldering fire at our late 
camping-place. 

“ We’d better put fresh caps on our rifles and revolvers,” said 
Colonel King. (No copper cartridges were in use at that time.) 
“ We’ll know directly whether the redskins are yet on the war-path, 

and By George, they are !” For at this moment the tethered 

mules pricked up their long ears and moved uneasily, a sure sign that 
the sagacious brutes scented Indians. 

Though trembling shafts of light were now beginning to pierce the 
upper air, the gray-green grassy plain below was still in deep gloom. 
Snatching a night-glass, our leader gazed earnestly for a few seconds 
in the direction of our abandoned camp. Then, as we, too, levelled 
our glasses, he smilingly whispered, “ Those mules know more than 
any of us, boys.” x 

So it seemed ; for this is what we dimly saw : a line of fourteen 
shadowy forms creeping on hands and knees towards the dying embers, 
beyond whose dull gleam the murderous crew expected to find five 
sleeping enemies and a rich booty, the former to be speedily butchered 
and the latter easily taken. 

“ Oh, this is fun !” softly exclaimed the colonel. “ But you’ll see 
more of it so soon as those red devils find that wagon, live-stock, and 
men are all gone.” 

On and on, like writhing serpents, slowly crawled the dusky 
assassins, until, on reaching the nearly extinct fire, they saw that 
between it and the horizon was naught but empty space. Then, with 
yells of astonished rage, they sprang to their feet, but only to stoop 
low again and grope on the ground for our trail, as it was still too 
dark for them to see even the great white-topped wagon, less than 
six hundred yards away. We, however, by the aid of our glasses, 
could see all that took place. 


A BRUSH WITH K 10 WAS. 


715 


Almost in an instant the savages hit upon the trail, followed it for 
a few rods, then bunched up together and seemed to be consulting, the 
result of which was that the whole fourteen started off up-stream. 

“ They’ve no idea how close we are, boys, and are making for that 
clump of alders by the river, to fetch their ponies; but daylight’s 
coming fast, and they’ll see us before they get there. You may as well 
rouse up Mike and Sam. We’re pretty sure to have a scrimmage, and 
they’ll be wanted to watch the cattle,” coolly observed the colonel. 

Passing through the encircling line of horses and mules, Dan King 
crept under the wagon to awake the men. Next moment he called out 
in a tone of surprise, “ Mike’s here all right, but the darky and his 
gun are gone !” 

“ Why, Mike, what on earth has become of Sam ?” asked Colonel 
King, as the Irishman crawled into view, rubbing his eyes. 

“ Sorra the bit av me knows, sor. Shure the blissed naygur — bar- 
rin’ the snorin’ av him — rooshted aisy as a pig forninst me all night, an’ 
I niver missed him. Mebbe the craythur’s shneaked out wid his gun 
to shcare a jack-rabbit, for divil a bit av him cud hit the bashte,” ingen- 
uously replied Mike. 

Meantime, in the broadening light, we could see, without the aid 
of glasses, that the Indians had reached and were about to cross the 
mouth of the gully before referred to; when, just as they stood on the 
brink, there flashed from its bottom, about thirty yards higher up, a 
sheet of flame, accompanied by the full, round report of a double 
smooth-bore gun. On this five or six of the savages began to caper 
about like half-crazed turkeys, — as, indeed, more civilized warriors 
might well have done on finding their legs plentifully peppered by 
bird-shot. 

“ Sure as you live,” exclaimed Dan, “ that fool nigger has sneaked 
down the ditch and fired both barrels of his pop-gun into the crowd of 
Indians. They’ll see our camp now. The fellow must have gone clean 
mad, or else he’s trying to take the shine out of Mike.” 

For perhaps ten seconds the redskins seemed panic-stricken ; then, 
evidently catching sight of their single foolhardy enemy, they plunged, 
with furious cries, into the gully and gave chase, even the wounded 
braves limping along at a good gait. 

But this slight delay had enabled Sam, who could, on occasion, 
shuffle his flat feet with wondrous celerity, to increase his thirty-yard 
lead to more than a hundred, and he turned the shoulder of the nearest 
bend in time to escape a shower of bullets. 

“ Come on, boys ! We must save that idiot, I suppose,” grumbled 
the colonel, u though he really ought to be shot.” 

Picking up our rifles, we jumped into the ravine, followed by Mike, 
and, after running three hundred yards or so, saw Sam, hatless and 
gunless, tearing frantically along, while, now less than eighty yards 
behind him, came the howling Kiowas, knife and tomahawk in hand, 
none of them having stopped to reload. 

The negro, so scared that his black face had turned to a grayish- 
ashen hue, was directly in a line between us and his bloodthirsty 
pursuers : so one of us shouted, “ Throw yourself flat down, Sam !” 


716 


COME NOT AT NIGHT. 


The fellow instinctively obeyed ; and then the savages, seeing us stand- 
ing with levelled rifles, turned about as if to fly. Too late ! Our 
guns cracked on the instant, and three of the foremost warriors fell, 
while a fourth was brought down by Colonel King’s second barrel. 
“ That will do, boys. Let them go,” he said. “ They’re quite de- 
fenceless at present, and have got a wholesome lesson. No useless 
slaughter.” 

The ten survivors — those tickled by Sam’s small shot and all — 
scurried affrightedly down and out of the gully, soon gaining the 
alder grove, whence we saw them bring their hidden ponies, mount, 
and ride away, leading the four animals whose late owners would never 
again go on the war-path. 

Then our leader turned angrily on Sam. “ What ever induced you 
to make such a confounded ass of yourself?” he asked. 

“ Why — why, massa kurnel, Mike he done said dat Injuns doesn’t 
eber scalp colored folks. I waked up mighty airly, an’ when I seen 
dem red villuns a-turnin’ back from de ole camp I jest slipped inter 
de ditch ter get a shot at dem, — an’, by golly ! I hit ’em, too !” 

“ No; these Plains Indians don’t care for woolly scalps, I believe,” 
laughed the mollified colonel ; “ but, you ridiculous donkey, they would 
have skinned you alive all the same.” 

“ Dat’s purcisely what I ’spicioned, sah, when dey cum at me in 
sich er obstropelous mannah. But, praise de Lawd, dey couldn’t cotch 
dis chile !” 

“ An’ it’s moighty glad I am that they didn’t,” generously put in 
Mike. “ Be the same token, Sam, there must be a dhrop av the 
Oirisli in yer swate carkiss, ye’re so keen for foightin’. But if that 
ould gun hadn’t shcattered like a hail-shtorm, ye’d niver have hit a 
sowl of thim.” 

Returning leisurely to camp, we tethered our hungry animals out 
to graze, got breakfast, and in due time resumed our journey. We 
were never again, during that expedition, annoyed by hostile Indians; 
but I have always believed that to the chance coming of that lone 
pelican and Colonel King’s consequent lucky shot we owed our escape 
from a probably fatal encounter when the Kiowas first overtook us. 
Indeed, we afterwards learned that the band had come out expressly 
to take our scalps and capture the valuable outfit. 

William Thomson . 


COME NOT AT NIGHT. 

0 DEATH, come not for me at dead of night ! 

Call not my soul to take its lonely flight 
Through dark and storm unto the world unknown. 
But when the golden sun from out the sea 
Shall lift his face to light a path for me, 

O Death, come then, and claim me for thine own. 

Carrie Blake Morgan. 


OUR FULLEST THROAT OF SONG.' 


717 


“OUR FULLEST THROAT OF SONG.” 

T HE poet Lowell possessed in full measure the artistic nature. The 
furious rush of inspiration, wfith its wilful eddies and back- 
currents of indolence and procrastination ; the impatience and tender 
affection at once, wreaked upon all the petty, confining details of life ; 
the alternations of self-worship and deadly doubt, — all these he knew 
full well. They are revealed over and over, even in the discreet 
selection from his friendly correspondence only — not from his love- 
letters — which Mr. Norton has published. But the rare flower of 
genius was planted in a vase, to borrow Goethe’s phrase, of sturdy 
Puritanic manhood. His nerves were steadied and his blood purified 
for him by centuries of virtuous, peaceful ancestors. And the man 
never surrendered to the genius; nay, rather, the man’s sense of duty 
encroached upon the higher rights of the dreamer. Whenever the 
note of repining is struck in these frank, healthful letters, the regret 
is over the neglect of that supremest and rarest among all his rich 
gifts, — poetic inspiration. 

To a little circle of beloved friends, Lowell fully revealed himself ; 
it was indeed a necessity for him. Toward the world he was suave, 
mannerly, but, after all, with a barrier of reserve that could not be 
passed. Doubtless a man like Longfellow, conscious that the inner 
gates are safely barred against all humanity, can more safely assume 
the manner of open hospitality to all. In these letters we can all see, 
at least far better than before, just how Lowell’s work was accom- 
plished. To be sure, the most precious part of the process remains no 
less a mystery ; it is probably always a mystery, even to the artist 
himself. The noble “ Commemoration Ode,” like the “Vision of Sir 
Launfal,” came to the poet almost as an instant inspiration, and took 
nearly final shape as fast as he could write it down ; yet he had really 
been collecting the material and preparing himself to give it artistic 
shape throughout his whole life. It was only a process like crystal- 
lization that was at last so suddenly completed. 

Until the memorable year 1847, when “ Hosea Biglow” leaped into 
world-wide fame, Lowell had won his way but slowly, like Hawthorne, 
toward the great heart of the people. This is not altogether strange. 
His poems were heavily, often too heavily, freighted with the results 
both of study and of thought. They are, to be sure, the sincere 
utterance of his soul, but they have not, as a rule, the simple, singing 
melody of Longfellow or even of Whittier. The taste for the best 
things in Lowell’s earlier work, especially, is usually an acquired taste, 
— acquired by loving study and long familiarity with him in mature 
life. Longfellow is oftener the companion of boyhood, Whittier the 
trumpet voice that startles our dreaming youth. 

Love is a constant element in Lowell’s earlier utterances, at least. 
Sound morality, perfect trust in God’s wisdom and man’s future, are 
never lacking. There is also, however, a vein of mysticism, which 


718 


“OUR FULLEST THROAT OF SONG. 


often darkens, though it does not perturb, the clear current of his 
thoughts. In this respect he is more literally than elsewhere Emer- 
son’s pupil. Thus, Emerson, gazing at Concord River, thinks at the 
same time of another stream, — truth’s current, or time, or human life, 
it may be (for it is by no means clear), and he sings, in “ Two 
Rivers,” — 

Thy summer voice, Musketaquit, 

Repeats the music of the rain ; 

But sweeter rivers pulsing flit 
Through thee, as thou through Concord Plain. 

This fancy is repeated by Lowell, more elaborately, in “ Beaver 
Brook,” and still again, as he muses on his beloved Charles, in the 
“ Indian Summer Reverie 

Flow on, dear river ; not alone you flow 
To outward sight, and through your marshes wind ; 

Fed from the mystic springs of long ago, 

Your twin flows silent through my world of mind. 

To be sure, this perception of an analogy between an outward 
vision and a spiritual reality is not only the very essence of mysticism, 
but also, as Emerson, Longfellow, and Lowell all tell us, of poetry 
itself as well. 

In the same way, Emerson’s “ Forerunners” expresses a feeling 
common to all poets, — perhaps to all men, — that our rarest and loftiest 
thoughts still elude our grasp : 

No speed of mine avails 
To hunt upon their shining trails. 

But Lowell could hardly have failed to remember his master’s very 
words, when composing his “ Envoi to the Muse 

I seem to fold thy luring shape, 

And vague air to my bosom clasp, 

Thou lithe, perpetual Escape. 

Indeed, here, and in Whittier’s “ Vanishers,” the similarity in words, 
and even in metre, appears to be a loyal confession of indebtedness ; 
for among this generous-hearted band there are no mean jealousies or 
concealments. 

Lowell’s poetry always continued to be enriched by echoes and 
allusions from earlier singers. Often, indeed, this is frankly avowed, 
as when, beginning “ Sir Launfal” with the words 

Not only around our infancy 
Doth heaven with all its splendors lie, 

he alludes plainly to Wordsworth’s greatest ode, on Immortality. But 
Lowell is in no sense a plagiarist, nor even really indebted, as Long- 
fellow so constantly is, to other literatures. All he says comes warm 
from his own throbbing heart. He may borrow a word or a phrase to 


OUR FULLEST THROAT OF SONG 


719 


utter himself, just because his scholar’s memory has held and loved it, 
but he could have struck out his own expression at least as well. 
Occasionally, in moments of deepest feeling, he crashes forth a rugged, 
vigorous phrase such as Longfellow’s more silvery chime never strikes. 
This is especially well seen by comparing Longfellow’s “ Two Angels,” 
written on the day Lowell’s wife died, — 

And softly from that hushed and darkened room 
Two angels issued where but one went in, — 

and the stricken poet’s own “ After the Burial 

It is pagan ; but wait till you feel it, — 

That jar of our earth, that dull shock 
When the ploughshare of deeper passion 
Tears down to our primitive rock. 

It may be said that Lowell was the sufferer, and naturally spoke from 
the heart. But that only points more sharply the difference in the 
artists. Longfellow after a similarly bitter bereavement waited in 
silence eighteen years, then wrote a tender and graceful sonnet — for his 
own eyes only. In fact, Longfellow uttered in tasteful verse almost 
every human impulse except his own elemental feelings. There is but 
one slight love-note in all his poetry. 

Of all Lowell’s close personal attachments, this intimacy with 
Longfellow is perhaps the most important. A century hence, this 
generous friendship may have become as prominent in the story of 
New England literature as is to-dav, in our oldest home, the tie that 
bound together the poet-pair of Weimar. 

Indeed, these two loyal friends, Longfellow the gentle and the 
impetuous Lowell, seem to me beyond question our two most important 
poets. Every mature American should have read all their works 
repeatedly. But while the tender sentiment, the broad human sym- 
pathy, even the sunny, genial scholarship, of Longfellow might make 
a child think (most untruly) that he has mastered the full meaning, 
there is much in Lowell’s verse which will utterly baffle us until our 
own deeper joys and sorrows furnish the key. Indeed, there will 
always be acute educated men (perhaps women too) who will declare 
half his verses unintelligible to them. His own father was one such 
critic. Lowell is often essentially untranslatable, nor can his mean- 
ing be expressed at all in prose, — a test Longfellow rarely resists so 
stubbornly. 

* As an artist in the technique of verse, in the combination of organ- 
like harmonies of sound, Lowell, when at his best, is unrivalled in 
America, and sometimes near to imperial Tennyson. Let him who 
thinks these words extravagant read, for instance, aloud, the twenty 
opening lines of “ Sir Launfal 

Over his keys the musing organist, 

Beginning doubtfully and far away, 

First lets his fingers wander as they list, 

And builds a bridge from Dreamland for his lay. 


720 11 OUR FULLEST THROAT OF SONG” 

A loftier music still is often heard in the “ Harvard Ode ;” e.g ., 

Our slender life runs rippling by, and glides 
Into the silent hollow of the Past; 

What is there that abides 
To make the next age better than the last? 

And precisely these two poems were essentially improvisations, struck 
off at a white heat, and almost at a sitting. Lowell does not always 
choose words so smooth-gliding as those just quoted. The tones of 
the whirlwind, the surf, and the thunder are not those of the brook or 
the rain ; but all are nature’s voices. The severest test of this har- 
monic power is blank verse. Here Longfellow’s “ Divine Tragedy” 
often breaks down altogether into rugged prose, while “ The Cathedral” 
need not fear comparison, at least in part, with the 

God-gifted organ-voice of England, 

Milton, a name to resound for ages. 

Indeed, there are not a few passages of “ The Cathedral” which 
ring a clear and unmistakable challenge upon the Miltonic shield itself. 
We may choose, almost at a venture : 

His holy places may not be of stone, 

Nor made with hands, yet fairer far than aught 
By artist feigned or pious ardor reared, 

Fit altars for who guards inviolate 
God’s chosen seat, the sacred form of man. 

One almost yemembers these lines upon a page of “ Paradise Lost.” 
It is interesting to note that Lowell, the most fastidious of critics, 
prone enough to self-dissatisfaction in all else, defends with unfailing 
confidence the metrical skill, the ear for harmonies, of Lowell the 
poet. 

Lowell’s best poetic utterance is generally felt to mark our highest 
achievement in verse hitherto ; but his poems are uneven, in the artistic 
sense, often unfinished. Some of them, indeed, were prematurely 
printed, before the vein of thought had worked itself out. Longfellow 
has produced a far greater mass of faultless verses, though they are all 
in less lofty keys than “ The Cathedral” and the “ Memorial Odes.” 
It is not incredible, then, that the call of patriotism has indeed deprived 
us of our rarest poet’s un uttered master-song. 

Certainly of Lowell the writer, far more than of any contemporary, 
it is constantly said, and said by those who knew him best, The man 
was far greater than all the memorials he has left of himself. They 
do not adequately reveal his genius. If there was indeed such a 
sacrifice of his highest literary attainment, the more precious and 
memorable for us all should be the costly lesson of his life. 

Weak- winged is song, 

Nor aims at that clear-ethered height 
Whither the brave deed climbs for light. 

William Cranston Lawton. 


BOOKS OF THE MONTH. 


721 


asoofts of tfje ifflonti)* 

JFor Christmas anC* Bll tbe l>ear IRounb. 

There will be two classes of readers who will seek these 
altogether charming books with eager curiosity. They are 
both large, both intelligent and receptive. The one con- 
sists of those who have made the pilgrimages themselves, 
the other of those who have not, but would like to do so. 
Next to reading a delightful r'esume of what one has him- 
self seen and done comes the pleasure, only a degree less 
in intensity, of anticipating it. The reviewer has had the good fortune, in some 
of those idle weeks that last longest in the memory, to follow Dr. Wolfe through 
many of the literary pathways of both his English and American Pilgrimages, 
and is therefore a competent witness to their surprising correctness, to their 
sympathetic expression of the charm which clings about a place hallowed by 
some great or romantic name, to their feeling for proportion and perspective, 
and to their consistent unity of tone. The wanderings cover so wide a range 
that it would seem impossible to condense them into the shapely, pocket- 
able volumes to which they are devoted, were it not that this has been done 
with a deftness characteristic of Dr. Wolfe’s publishers, the J. B. Lippincott 
Company. The covers are of a deep red buckram, bearing a rich design, and 
the typography is in the elegant style which has brought printing into new 
repute as a fine art. The illustrations consist of four photogravures in each 
volume, giving authentic views of the rarer spots visited by the tireless author. 

Literary Shrines is a treasury of gossip, facts, directions, quotations, way- 
side remarks, and critical comment upon the haunts made famous by American 
authors. It is conceived in quite a new vein, and fills a place which has long 
remained empty on the shelf given up to books about American men of letters 
and their homes. The author has had especial facilities for seeing just the 
objects most pleasing to lovers of books, and he reports them in the captivating 
manner of one who is himself a lover of everything associated with good litera- 
ture past and present. The shrines which we visit in his company are the most 
hallowed altars of literature in the land, — Concord, Boston, Belmont, Salem, 
Brook Farm, the Berkshire Hills of Hawthorne, and the Camden of Walt 
Whitman. In all, there are ninety-nine authors mentioned in the index, 
showing the minute knowledge and wide reading of Dr. Wolfe, who both as 
guide and as daylong comrade will be found unimpeachable. 

In A Literary Pilgrimage , the companion volume to Literary Shrines , and in 
all mechanical effects its twin, the author leads us over the ground made sacred 
by the feet of famous English writers, — not, let it be said, to the hackneyed 
places grown shabby by much contact with the tourist, but to fresh fields and 
pastures new, which his instinct for what is characteristic and real has led him 
to linger over in his successive journeys. We are taken first to Hampstead and 
Highgate, which are not half known — and therefore all the more interesting — to 
the guide-book traveller, and meet anew Dickens, Steele, Pope, Keats, Joanna 
Vol. LVI.— 46 


Literary Shrines. 
A Literary Pil- 
grimage. Two Vol- 
umes. By Theodore 
F. Wolfe, M.D., 
Ph.D. Illustrated. 


722 


BOOKS OF THE MONTH. 


Baillie, Dr. Johnson, Hunt, Akenside, Shelley, Hogarth, Addison, Richardson, 
Gay, Besant, Du Maurier, Coleridge, George Eliot. This noble group will 
suffice to show how exhaustive is Dr. Wolfe, omitting neither the earliest nor 
the latest of the lions who have been denizens where he rambles. The next 
stroll is in Southwark and up Thames-side to Chelsea, a quarter rich in literary 
associations past and present. Then we go to Stoke Pogis, the scene of Gray’s 
Elegy, and to Dickensland, — Gad’s Hill, Rochester, and thereabout. We are 
conducted to the haunts of Byron near London, to the Loamshire of George 
Eliot, to Dotheboys Hall and Rokeby, to Sutton, Sterne’s place of retirement, 
to the Haworth of the Brontes, to the haunts of Eugene Aram, to the home 
of Sydney Smith at Heslington, to Nithsdale, the region of Scott, Hogg, and 
Carlyle, to Burnsland, to the Bronte scenes in Brussels, to the places touched 
into fame by the English authors at Lake Leman, and lastly to the chateaux 
of Ferney and Coppet, around which linger memories of Voltaire, De Stael, 
Schlegel, Shelley, Constant, Byron, and Davy. 

It is rarely that one is admitted to travel in such good company as is pro- 
vided at every turn by Dr. Wolfe. He has pondered well and fully achieved 
Emerson’s injunction, to “ learn the art of taking a walk.” 

Each new personal record of the War of the Rebellion 
From Manassas to adds to history some valuable facts. In this view the book 
Appomattox. Being before us, by Lieutenant-General James Longstreet, of the 
the Memoirs of Confederate Army, is a priceless contribution to contempo- 
Lieutenant-General rary knowledge and will be a boon to future makers of 
c.s.A. illustrated, history. It is the narrative of events the most tragic and 
momentous in American annals, acted in aud pointedly 
observed by one of the leaders of the Secession war. General Longstreet was 
born in 1821, and is consequently passing into a green old age. It is therefore 
very fortunate that he has now put into enduring form his recollections and 
criticisms of a period about which will centre the interest of generations of loyal 
Americans. But, aside from this historic value, the memoirs form a fund of 
shrewd personal views mingled with pleasantries which show the author to be 
possessed of a remarkable memory and of an uncommonly genial spirit. He 
tells some droll anecdotes of General Grant before and during the Mexican war, 
when he was thrown with him as a subaltern. The pictures of Grant playing 
the daughter of Brabantio in ‘‘ The Moor of Venice” and as the “ small lieu- 
tenant with the large epaulettes” are thoroughly diverting. But the graver por- 
tions of the book are naturally those upon which its reputation will rest, and 
these are plainly and picturesquely told in a manner which indicates accurate 
research reinforced by vivid recollections. We are carried from the far West, 
where General Longstreet was stationed, to the Confederate front, and taken 
with him, as the title indicates, From Manassas to Appomattox , encountering the 
leaders Johnston, Stonewall Jackson, Pickett, Huger, Stuart, Lee, and G. W. 
Smith. The comment upon the latter will indicate the independent tone which 
characterizes the book : “ He resigned his commission in the Confederate ser- 
vice, went to Georgia, and joined Joe Brown’s militia, where he found congenial 
service, better suited to his ideas of vigorous warfare.” General Longstreet took 
part in many of the most important battles of the war, and his text deals with 
Manassas, Bull Run, Fair Oaks, Malvern Hill, the Maryland campaign, An- 
tietam, Fredericksburg, Gettysburg, Chickamauga, and Appomattox. 


BOOKS OF THE MONTH. 


723 


This is the record of a comprehensive career, and it gives the Confederate 
point of view with an uncommon impartiality, both because of the sterling 
qualities of the author and because of his loyalty to reconstructed America. 
He was the first of the Southerners of eminence to render allegiance to the 
Union, and he has been justly held as a noble influence toward the cemented 
brotherhood between the North and the South. The book is handsomely 
produced by the J. B. Lippincott Company, its publishers, and is sold by 
subscription only. The illustrations are by Mr. Charles H. Stephens, and are 
particularly pertinent to the text. 

So rapidly have the vanguards of science advanced upon 
us that before our wonder ceases at one marvel we en- 
counter another and another. This has made it impossible 
for a people immersed in business and in domestic cares to 
learn the origin of even such utilities of life as modern 
science has brought into every man’s reach. But if we are ignorant of these, 
we are in a much greater degree ignorant of the more complex and greater dis- 
coveries. 

Hence it is that a work like this by Mr. Charles Henry Cochrane, entitled 
The Wonders of Modern Mechanism, has come into being. Its usefulness is not 
open to question ; it is simply a necessity born of the desire of every thoughtful 
mind to grasp the reasons and causes for the commonest mechanical practices 
of our marvellous day. 

The author has had a large experience in the preparation of popular 
scientific works, and he has thoroughly learned the essential truth that there 
are words enough in the mother tongue to explain any human device with 
ample lucidity, provided the writer knows how to use them. And this Mr. 
Cochrane does to perfection. With a deliberate, easy, clear, forcible flow of 
language, never tiresome and always understandable, he explains what have 
been rendered hidden processes and scientific secrets by the clouded style of 
those who have hitherto reported them. 

In this way we learn how the huge buildings of our cities are made pos- 
sible through the steel frames that have recently come into vogue ; how elec- 
tricity is generated and what it is ; how the kineto-phonograph has been evolved 
and what its ultimate uses may be; of the uses and genesis of the electric- 
storage battery and of electric pleasure-boats; the secrets of the ocean grey- 
hounds and their wonderful achievements; of recent progress in guns and 
armor ; of submarine boats ; of flying machines ; of extraordinary bridges and 
great tunnels; of canals, old and new; of horseless vehicles, such as the 
bicycle, and especially of bicycle manufacture in all its phases ; of compressed- 
air mechanisms ; of the chaining of Niagara Falls for the power it will yield to 
electricity ; of improvements in telegraphy, as the practical printing telegraph ; 
of the problem of producing electricity direct from coal ; of Nikola Tesla and 
his wonderful oscillator which will supersede steam ; of the electric locomotive; 
how the light traffic railway systems — trolley, compressed air, coal-gas — work ; 
of conduit electric railways; of the probability of travel at a hundred and 
twenty miles an hour by the Brott system ; of the intricacies of steel manu- 
facture; of tools for building the machines which turn out the wonder-working 
engines ; of mining and its machinery ; of the mechanisms for removing the 
less valuable portions of ore ; of the Pelton water-wheel ; of illuminating gas, 


The Wonders of 
Modern Mechan- 
ism. By Charles 
H. Cochrane. 


724 


BOOKS OF THE MONTH. 


including the new product called acetylene gas, which may be either solid, 
liquid, or gaseous; of oil wells and their products; of coal-handling ma- 
chinery ; of ice-making and refrigerating ; of aluminum, the metal of the 
future ; of wire netting in glass ; of machine-made watches ; of progress in 
printing by the web perfecting machines and machine type-setting and line- 
casting; of the development of the art of ornamental illustration through the 
photograph, culminating in three-color half-tone pictures ; of stereotyping and 
electrotyping ; of sugar-making machinery ; of Emery testing-machines ; of the 
spectroscope, the theatrophone, the big pleasure-wheels, rain-making appli- 
ances, and a score of other minor inventions. 

The scope of this work is thus seen to be as wide as the horizon of modern 
thought in science and invention. There seems to be nothing omitted that a 
curious mind would care to be informed about in the vast catalogue of appliances 
and processes that are making anew the life of humanity and endowing the 
individual with powers which the ancient world scarcely accredited to its gods. 
Mr. Cochrane has rendered a service only less important than the inventors 
themselves in translating into the vernacular these arcana of the machine-shop 
and the laboratory. His book is one which each household should possess a 
copy of and every library several. Many cuts are scattered through the pages 
in further illustration of the various subjects. 


Designed as a compendium of the existing knowledge on 

The Metallurgy of i ron an( j gtee j substantial volume by Thomas Turner, 

Iron and Steel. By J 

Thomas Turner. Associate of the Royal School of Mines, Fellow of the 

Institute of Chemistry, Director of Technical Instruction 
to the Staffordshire County Council, will be an invaluable adjunct to the 
foundry, the laboratory, or the study. It opens with a comprehensive history 
of iron from the earliest times in which it was used by primitive peoples, and 
this in itself is a most desirable possession, even for the lay reader; but to the 
inventor it will give impulse and direction. The special merit of the work, 
however, lies in its comprehensive treatment of the subject of foundry prac- 
tice and the reactions of the puddling furnace, in which Mr. Turner’s special 
knowledge has been made most effective. The references to other works are 
very exhaustive, and will be found helpful to learners as well as to experienced 
workers in iron. Many cuts are introduced which supplement the excellent 
text. The Metallurgy of Iron and Steel comes from the Lippincotts, and will 
take a high place among their well-known publications on science. 


There may be doubt of the advisability of issuing this or 
that unknown and untried book, but of the wisdom of 
issuing Poe as often as enterprise and opportunity suggest 
it there can be no manner of question. There is a peren- 
nial demand for the classic tales, so grim and horrible, yet 
so fascinating. Each generation must have its share of 
editions, and every edition is eagerly required by an endless 
public on both sides of the sea. 

The J. B. Lippincott Company, in union with Messrs. J. Sheills & Com- 
pany, of London, have just issued the initial volumes of a set of The Works 
of Edgar Allan Poe , in eight volumes, which will be in all respects an edition 
worthy of the author, of the reader who exacts good literature, and of those 


The Complete 
Works of Edgar 
Allan Poe. In 
Eight Volumes. 
Illustrated with 
Twenty-Four Pho- 
togravures. 


BOOKS OF THE MONTH. 725 

who, nowadays, demand the best products of the press, of the bindery, and of 
the illustrator, in supplying libraries, private and public. 

Of the text nothing need now be said. It has passed through the ordeal 
of a generation, and is classic. But the external finish of the eight volumes in 
hand is of such unusual appropriateness that it deserves special remark. The 
twenty-four photogravures are exceptionally beautiful, and we have hitherto 
seen no illustrations to Poe that equal them. The size of the volumes is a 
convenient one for either the side-pocket or the library shelf. 

Another reissue of a classic to which the Messrs. Lippin- 
cott this year treat us is that of the complete works of 
Elia in six volumes. This is called The Ttmple Edition of 
The Life , Letters , and Writings of Charles Lamb , and has 
been prepared by the skilful hand of Mr. Percy Fitzgerald, 
at once a devotee of the Gentle Charles and a finished 
bibliophile. 

The six volumes contain all of Lamb’s writings, even down to his share 
of the Tales from Shakespeare , which will delight many an old devotee of the 
sweetest and truest heart in all English letters, as it will make many a new one. 
But what to the old lover of Elia will appeal even more powerfully is the set 
of his portraits, which includes all that are known to the specialists. It is a 
great consideration to have the entire set of Lamb portraits thus brought 
together for comparison, and by mental methods similar to those of composite 
photography a true disciple may have a very authentic likeness of the master. 
There is abundance of portraits of Lamb’s friends, and the set is appropriately 
bound, both for use and for beauty. 

It has been many a day since the good-natured face of 
Hans Breitmann in Hans Breitmann has peered at us from the leaves of a new 
German y-Tyr o l. b 00 k but here it is, wreathed in smiles, dimpled with mirth 
j an( j t and health, and overflowing with the human kindness 

which has made Hans a household joy this generation 
past. Philadelphians will be foremost to welcome a sequel to the ballads of 
their gifted townsman, but the whole English and German reading- world now 
owns the jolly singer of pigeon-English, and his latest medley will be appro- 
priated wherever its composite language is understood. 

Mr. Charles G. Leland has so many points of contact with the intellectual 
world that this yodling of “ pallads” and gossiping in dialect seems but a small 
part of his achievements in language, yet it is just here, in fact, that his best 
claim to reputation lies. He has never done anything since the original Hans 
Breitmann ballads that at all approached them in originality and in lasting 
worth until the appearance of the present book, Hans Breitmann in Germany- 
Tyrol (Lippincott). This is a delightful melange of prose and verse, having to 
do with leisurely travels in the Tyrol, with the legends which cling to the valleys 
there, and with the picturesque habits of “ De Rollers” in general. Anybody 
who has read the original Hans will want these new glimpses of him, and will 
find them a wholesome refreshment after the Zeitgeist books of the last few 
years. Here is only jocund fooling, Teutonic laughter, with fine dashes of 
sense. The unique cover and title-page are the work of Mr. Leland’s own 
artistic hand. 


The Life, Letters, 
and Writings of 
Charles Lamb. 
Edited by Percy 
Eitzgerald. With 
Portraits. In Six 
Volumes. 


726 


BOOKS OF THE MONTH. 


By Anna Robeson 
Brown. 


Miss Anna Robeson Brown is the authoress of Alain of 
The Black Lamb. Half dene, which recently appeared in Lippincotf s Magazine, 
and this fact will make for any new story by her a large 
and eager audience. She is a remarkable combination of 
womanly insight and masculine love of wild adventure, and her tales are like 
Stevenson’s in their rush of incident, like George Eliot’s in their finish of style, 
yet show the promise rather than the performance of these masters. That her 
matter and manner are all her own is the more remarkable in view of her 
literary resemblances. 

The present tale, The Black Lamb, published by the Lippincotts, is about 
Colonel Sartoris, of Washington Square, New York, his son and heir, and his 
adopted son Noel Conway, who, like his queer father, is a dreamer and a Theo- 
sophist. He was born in India of a Creole mother, and bears the imprint of 
his singular birth both in mind and in body. The boys are uncommonly tall 
and vigorous, and have adventures in the West and in London which will startle 
the reader into absorbed interest. The colonel dies, and his estate is found to 
yield nothing, so the young men are thrown on their resources, and through 
journalism fall in with some extraordinary company. How they turn out must 
be left to the reader, who has had enough revealed to whet his appetite for the 
feast to which Miss Brown invites him. 


Owen Hall has not hitherto appeared as a writer of stories of 
Storm Tra ?y °Owen present length ; but by this work, The Track of a Storm, 
Hail. brought out by the Lippincotts, he at once advances to a 

high rank among those who are dealing with the fiction of 
adventure. Picturesque, melodramatic, like the tone which prevails throughout 
the dramas of The Lyons Mail or The Bells, this novel is a consistent work of 
literary art, and contains excellent portrayal of character and rapid succession 
of incident. The scene is laid in England, in the thirties, and opens with a stage- 
robbery by a masked highwayman on the road between Dover and London. 
Murder follows theft. One of the passengers, a banker, discovers a tell-tale 
mark on the robber’s wrist, and observes closely other characteristics. The 
notes stolen from him finally turn up at his bank, and he starts out to trace the 
fugitive. He discovers him to be a Mr. Jenkins, of Holby Lodge, near Bristol, 
and, after trying in vain to find him there, overtakes him in the Park, charges 
him with the crime, and secures his sentence to death, which is commuted to 
transportation for life. How this alluring plot is wrought out must not be 
anticipated ; suffice it to say that it is carried forward in Australia, where a 
love-episode intervenes, and the tale ends as happily as the injustice done to 
the innocent man by his accusation and conviction will permit. 


A Woman 
By “ Rita.” 


There is a solid, almost masculine, quality about the stories 
of “ Rita” which sets them apart from the frivolous tales by 
women and gives them an enduring place in letters. Her 
last book, fresh from the Lippincott press, is called A Woman in It, and pictures 
the very questionable career of an Irishwoman whose “ misadventures” have 
decided her to call herself Mrs. Noel Gray. She is beautiful, sprightly, fasci- 
nating, and has known the divorce courts, the scandals arising from an earlier 
affair, and the experiences of Parisian life. To secure a maintenance which 
will keep her on the right side of good repute, she beguiles a sick lady to take 


BOOKS OF THE MONTH. 


727 


her in as a companion, and here the trouble in Coombe Abbot begins. The 
curate, Mr. Babberley, proposes to her, Jack Enderleigk falls madly in love 
with her, and her employer’s husband, Jasper Oldreeve, finally commits a crime 
to win her. She escapes from all this to a London establishment for the per- 
fection of female beauty, and here has further adventures which gradually 
bring her back by fateful avenues to Enderleigh and Oldreeve. How she 
goes to Monte Carlo and is there confronted by her earlier misdoings, and how 
she finally begins anew in America, must be left to the investigation of readers 
who will inevitably be interested. 

It is rare to find a book which deals intelligently, from 
Figure-Drawing the combined points of view of the artist and of the anat- 
and Composition. om i 8 t w itli the subject of art-anatomy. The traits are so 
ton. illustrated. seldom mingled in a single author that there is scarcely a 
text-book on the subject that deserves mention in compari- 
son with this judicious and suggestive volume by Mr. Hatton ; and, as art studies 
are now attracting uncommon attention in this country, we commend to all 
earnest learners his well-planned book. 

The illustrations introduced will be found very helpful, and the text is 
clear and ample, while the opinions expressed and the hints put forth strike us 
as being in all respects calculated to perform a wise office to the earnest student 
in art. Figure- Drawing and Composition comes from the J. B. Lippincott Com- 
pany, who issue it in conjunction with its London publishers, Messrs. Chapman 

Hn tbe HJounger Dem. 

Perhaps nobody in our day has so well understood the 
happy and sedate family life of the Colonial period as Miss 
Anne Hollingsworth Wharton. She has written two books 
which give views into the interior of the old domestic life 
such as only a great love for it and the deepest knowledge 
of its people and its literature could beget. In Through 
Colonial Doorways and in Colonial Days and Dames the 
present tendency to seek the good example of our forefathers in taste and in 
manners is embodied. And what these books do for older heads Miss Whar- 
ton’s latest volume, A Last Century Maid, fresh and beautiful from the Lip- 
pincott press, does for the little people in their teens. For the first time we 
have from her pen a cluster of short stories dealing with the life of children and 
spoken to children with the tenderness of accent and the sympathy and love with 
which every reader of Miss Wharton’s adult books would at once credit her. 

A Last Century Maid contains six stories of varying length, mostly devoted 
to Colonial days. The first one gives the title to the volume, and tells the tale 
of a group of children at Chalkley Hall, who, hearing that a council was to be 
held between a band of Indian chiefs and James Logan at his near-by seat, 
planned to take a boat on the creek and run away from the fancied danger. 
This they did, to the consternation of their parents and to their own greater 
dread, for they fell in with the very Indians from whom they were fleeing, and 
were rescued by them from a night on the water and the pangs of fear and 
hunger. 

Of these Indians, Kanichungo was the interpreter, a noble fellow who was 


and Hall, Ld. 


A Last Century 
Maid, and Other 
Stories for Chil- 
dren. By Anne Hol- 
lingsworth Whar- 
ton. Illustrated. 


728 


BOOKS OF THE MONTH. 


very kind to the little fugitives; and his own story follows that of the Last 
Century Maid. He tells how the Lenap6 tribe was driven from its haunts by 
the white man, and, though forbearing in nature, at last struck a blow in re- 
sistance. From this encounter a bright little captive was brought back to the 
tribe, Catrina, whose sole cry was “ Mutter, Mutter,” but she did not know her 
mother’s name nor anything about her family, and so was taken into the wig- 
wam of Kanichungo’s mother. She won the love of all the tribe, but chiefly 
that of the warm-hearted Indian woman, and finally of Kanichungo himself. 
There was a rival, but Kanichungo was first in her regard, and when she desired 
to go from the camp and seek her mother he went with her. How she found 
her mother and left Kanichungo is the burden of the story, which we must not 
anticipate. Let it suffice to say that it is so sweet and tender and appealing 
that it will affect the oldest reader equally with the little one who must spell out 
the words. Christmas in Seventeen Seventy-Six is a fine story of the battle of 
Trenton ; while Roy’s Christmas Eve, A Dog and a Sunbeam in Prison, and 
Little Peacemaker are of later times, but conceived in Miss Wharton’s own 
charming vein and executed with all her wonted grace of style. 

A patriotic spirit breathes throughout these pages such as goes to the making 
of a united and a happy nation, and no girl or boy could receive a more lasting 
benefit than to be taught by heart these loyal and stirring stories of our grand- 
fathers. The illustrations are worthy of the text, and the entire volume is a 
notable achievement in juvenile letters. 


Trooper Ross and 
Signal Butte. Two 
Stories in One Vol- 
ume. By Captain 
Charles King, 
U.S.A, 


No one familiar with Captain King’s stirring novels would 
deny that he had just the right talent to make him beloved 
of stout-hearted boys if he ever set his hand to the produc- 
tion of a real boy’s tale. And now, in these two stories, 
Signal Butte and Trooper Ross , published, as are most of 
Captain King’s books, by the Lippincotts, we may see how 
exactly adapted to the youthful fancy his great talent is. Both stories are about 
brave youngsters on the frontier of a generation ago, and both show that power 
to realize scene, act, look, and almost thought, which the dashing captain pos- 
sesses alone among writers of military tales. 

Signal Butte is a tale concerning young Leon McNutt, dubbed MacDuff by 
the men at old Fort Retribution, whose family was one night washed away by 
a cloud-burst in Apache Canon. He was taken in at the fort, but a sinister 
uncle, named Muncey, turned up, who tried to lure him away and lose him. 
Leon came back and took part in a wild Indian adventure which involved half 
the region, and which resulted in the revelation of Muncey’s rascally plans to 
seize Leon’s patrimony. 

Trooper Ross is otherwise Buster Ross, christened Roderick, the daring 
favorite of Fort Frayne on the Platte. He was only nine, but could out-shoot 
all the Indian youths, and rode his pony Beppo like a veteran. When Corporal 
O’Toole volunteered for a perilous mission through the Indian scouting-pardes 
to the field column, Buster wanted to go along, which was pronounced absurd 
by every one but the redoubtable Buster. He slipped out before O’Toole, and 
actually swam across the Platte on Beppo, coming up just in time to shoot at 
an Indian and save the corporal’s life. This is only one incident in the career 
of Buster; but it will serve to show the metal he was moulded of and how in- 
teresting he can be. 


BOOKS OF THE MONTH. 


729 


A New Alice in the 
Old Wonderland. 
With Sixty-Seven 
Illustrations by 
Anna M. Richards, 
Jr. 


There is a fascination about Captain King’s books all their own, and these 
two stories seem to preserve it throughout in a marked degree, — perhaps because 
the captain likes boys and knows that they will be sure to like him. The illus- 
trations, by Mr. Stephens, are capital examples of conscientious work in black 
and white. 

We had all long ago thought that the perennial delight of 
the Alice books was to end with them : there could be no 
extension of that Wonderland and Looking-Glass country, 
and we consoled ourselves by reading again and again and 
still again the ever-fresh fairy-tales. But, to the delight 
and surprise of ourselves no less than of the countless 
friends of Alice, this New Alice in the Old Wonderland comes forth from the 
Lippincott press and fills the void. So like its great original is it that it seems 
spoken from the same inimitable lips, shot through with the same gleams of mad 
humor, filled to the brim with the same wild invention, and overflowing with 
the same serio-ridiculous poetry, yet still is new and fresh and original withal. 

This New Alice is the work of Mrs. W. T. Richards, the wife of the famous 
marine painter, and it has been illustrated with pen-and-ink drawings in the 
same vein of restrained humor that characterized Tenniel, and in a manner 
scarcely inferior to his own delightful productions, by Miss Anna M. Richards, 
Jr., the author’s daughter. 

Mrs. Richards has in the text caught, by some happy inspiration, the very 
trick and manner of Lewis Carroll’s droll humor, and, without trenching on his 
original ground in the least, she has succeeded in beginning in almost every in- 
stance where he left off, and in continuing the adventures of most of his immortal 
characters. This was a difficult task, but it has been achieved so ably and 
deftly that it must be allowed to be entirely justified. The book will be a year- 
long boon to young and old alike, and will always henceforth stand beside its 
red-backed peers of the old Alice on the best shelf of the family library. 


Cousin Mona. A 
Story for Girls. By 
Rosa Nouchette 
Carey. 


Of fuller years and older manners are the young people 
who inhabit the pleasant English country which lies as a 
background for Miss Rosa Nouchette Carey’s last book, 
Cousin Mona . They are the daughters of a gentleman 
living in India whose wife had died when they were babies 
and who had sent them to her old schoolmate, Miss Jackson, in England, to be 
educated. Rufa was the elder, Joyce the younger, the more beautiful, the more 
irresponsible. Miss Jackson, having become engaged to a clergyman, gives up 
her school, and at the same time the girls hear of the death of their father, 
their only source of support. They are respectively given the choice of living 
with either of two families of cousins, the Gregorys of The Pines, who are rich 
and fond of life, and the Cromptons at The Hermitage, an elderly brother and 
sister, steeped in habit and not possessed of much means. Which shall go to 
The Pines becomes a question that brings out all the characteristics of the two 
young girls, and it is almost a foregone conclusion that it is to be Joyce. Rufa 
goes to the solitude of Cousin Mona’s Hermitage, and shows herself capable 
of fine self-sacrifices. She turns out a girl of sterling worth, and her romance 
is ended with a charming love-episode. The career of Joyce is a foil to this, 
which points a moral and artistically adorns the tale. 

The Messrs. Lippincott issue the book in an excellent style, adapted to 


730 


BOOKS OF THE MONTH. 


twenty mark, to whom the pictures will be an aid and an 

As Miss Wharton knows well the young people who were 
our great-great-grandparents, so does another authoress 
of Philadelphia know intimately and lovingly the youths 
and maidens who will be the grandparents of the race to 
come. Miss Amy E. Blanchard is the acknowledged histo- 
rian of all that pertains to girlhood and boyhood, and her books have made her 
a nursery deity wherever they are known. In Two Girls she introduced us to a 
little world all her own, constructed from the simple domestic traits of a pair 
of maidens who lived an every-day life, but who were so real and so sweet that 
we have never forgotten their tender charm. 

In this last book by Miss Blanchard, entitled Girls Together, which comes 
from the same publishers, J. B. Lippincott Company, we are again invited into 
the cosy family circle where Val and Theo are queens, where Aunt Janet Nelson 
presides, and where Archie and Jack and a half-dozen lads more are the squires 
of dames. The same life goes forward, only the young people are less young, 
and where in the first book the interest lay in the pursuits of childhood, it here 
centres in the courtesies and little excitements that lead on to love-making. 
Whom Theo finally marries, and how Val is disposed of, will surely interest 
every reader of Two Girls, and the readers of that happy tale must be legion. 

The illustrations, as in the earlier book, are from the brush of Ida Waugh, 
who has devoted a fine artistic career to the illustration of childhood. 


readers below the 
attraction. 


Girls Together. 
By Amy E. Blanch- 
ard. Illustrated by 
Ida Waugh. 


Chumley’s Post. A 
Story of the Paw- 
nee Trail. By Wil- 
liam 0. Stoddard. 
With Illustrations 
by Charles H. 
Stephens. 


The especial trait of sympathy which enables an adult to 
understand a lad or a lass, to enter into their fancies and 
little romances, and to take to heart their wonder and fear 
and sense of right and wrong, is much rarer than many 
of us suppose. It requires a very amiable nature and a 
simple manly or womanly bearing to win the confidence of 
the young. They are instinctively alert for friend and for 
foe, and respond to a warm and kindly heart sooner even than their elders. 
Books, therefore, which would appeal to children must bear the impress of these 
characteristics. They must be bold, daring, and adventurous, but good, true, 
generous, and just, as well. 

It would be hard to find a better example of all that this implies than 
Chumley’s Post, by that veteran tale-teller, known to every intelligent boy and 
girl in the land, William O. Stoddard. It is a story of the West in those days 
when emigrants were overtaken by treacherous Indians and left scalpless upon 
their frontier farms. The lawless spirit of this life is depicted with telling 
strokes of a pen which has been educated on the ground. The wide region, 
with its beaten trail and immense perspectives, will open insensibly to the young 
eyes that pore over the pages, and the characters, Indian and white, types of 
good and bad unmistakably differentiated, will live in the minds of Mr. Stod- 
dard’s readers as lessons moral and historic. 

Chumley. let it briefly be said, is the first settler in his section. Not much 
is known about him, and there are none to know it if there were, — none save a 
wicked-looking old Indian who turns up while he is planting his post to fix the 
limit of his land. After a while a Swedish family comes to settle near by, and 
Chumley saves their lives by helping to kill the five Pawnees who attack them. 


I 


BOOKS OF THE MONTH. 731 

The old Indian kills his share also. Then the Muuro family arrives, and much 
adventure ensues, thrilling enough to please the most exacting youngster, but 
by no means overdrawn. And as each of these families brings a fair daughter, 
what wonder if adventure gives way to romance? 

The book ends very happily for those who deserve it, and the evil-disposed 
are dealt with according to their light, but the tale is absorbing to the end, and 
every bright boy and girl will rejoice to have it for Christmas. 

The illustrations supplied by the publishers, J. B. Lippincott Company, 
and executed by Mr. Charles H. Stephens, are superior to any we have seen in 
the boys’ and girls’ books of the time. Mr. Stephens evidently has a fund of 
knowledge about the region and the types he here deals with. 

It is a consideration to parents to have offered them so 
valuable an addition to the nursery or kindergarten as this 
careful but most intelligible and delightful book on beasts, 
birds, and fishes. If the previous books noticed supply 
history for young people in its most attractive form, this 
handsome book gives natural history in an equally diverting 
fashion. The dry husks are removed, the hard nuts are cracked, and the 
youngster will learn to know his four-footed friends and enemies by pleasant 
anecdotes and unusual episodes told in as genial a way as if they were spoken 
by a gossip at the fireside. 

The pictures in this Popular History of Animals for Young People (Lippin- 
cott) are an especial feature. They consist of thirteen colored plates and an 
abundance of wood-cuts through the text, and not only are they pleasing to the 
eye, but the reputation of the author, Mr. Henry Scherren, F.Z.S., insures them 
to be in all respects faithful portraits of the animals depicted. The book is a 
fine large octavo with a likable cover, and it will thus have friends among the 
little ones even before it is opened. When it is, there can be no manner of doubt 
that it will become a favorite for window-seats and lounges. 

Of a nature similar to The Wizard King, yet so wholly of 
another treatment and about another period and people as 
to be desirable as a companion volume, is Hugh Melville's 
Quest , by F. M. Holmes, which, like the first book, is pub- 
lished by the J. B. Lippincott Company. In this story the 
date is the sixteenth century and the subject is the defeat 
of the Spanish Armada by the English. Hugh Melville is 
the younger son of the noble house of that name, whose father and elder brother 
have gone to fight the wars of their queen in Spain. Report arrives that the 
father is slain and the son in captivity, and young Hugh is eager to seek out 
and liberate his brother. At last his mother is induced by her brother to ride 
down to London, and here she and Hugh have audience of Queen Elizabeth, 
seeing at the same time many of the notable men and women of the day. Sir 
Francis Drake wins the heart of young Hugh, and he determines, with his 
mother’s consent, to go out in the Cornhill Adventurer, a stout little ship sent 
against the Armada. His personal adventures here are thrillingly told; but, 
apart from these, the value of the book as a boy’s story lies in its excellent 
pictures of English life during Elizabeth’s reign and in the vivid description 
of England’s greatest naval triumph. To learn history in this fascinating way 
is to remember it always and as sensibly as if one had taken part in its actual 


Hugh Melville’s 
Quest. A Boy’s 
Adventures in the 
Days of the Ar- 
mada. By F. M. 
Holmes. Illus- 
trated. 


Popular History of 
Animals for Young 
People. By Henry 
Scherren, F.Z.S. Il- 
lustrated. 


732 


BOOKS OF THE MONTH. 


scenes. The pictures are just such as best catch and hold the fancy of any 

The best boys’ books that come to our recollection are those 
that deal with actual events in a romantic vein. By such 
means the lad who reads also learns. The scenes and 
events of history, even if a trifle rose-colored or lurid, are 
left palpably on his mind. Dates he may not know; but, 
after all, dates can always be looked up; facts are hard to 
get and hard to hold. 

Such a book, and there are none better of its kind so far as we know, is 
The Wizard King, by David Ker, which is just issued in holiday apparel from 
the Lippincott press. It is a story of many detached adventures, real and 
imagined, centring in John Sobieski the Polish patriot, who in the seventeenth 
century conquered the Turks and freed his people and his Hungarian neighbors 
from their depredations. His wild exploits and rash and sudden manoeuvres 
gained for him among his enemies the name of The Wizard King, and if the 
original daring of this great historic character was uncommon, the invention of his 
fanciful biographer is no less alluring. Even the adult reader is kept in breath- 
less pursuit of the noble hero through disguises, ambushes, intrepid acts of war- 
fare, and equally intrepid deeds of kindness, and any one with a sympathy for 
boys and a knowledge of what they like must be sure that The Wizard King will 
make an ideal Christmas gift which will prolong its charms far into the after- 
season. The illustrations are stirring accompaniments of the text. 

Nothing could better show the tendency toward a purer 
taste which has come in with the new feeling for household 
art than the change in the methods of preparing rhyme- 
books for children. Here we have a subject as old as the 
hills, — the nursery rhymes of all the past generations of 
English lads and lasses ; and yet so novel is the book in its 
presentation of the age-old jingles and ballads, so charming 
are the full-page designs and decorative margins fitted to 
them by skilled and tasteful artists in black and white, and so extensive is 
the learning which has been expended upon the collection, that, instead of a 
flimsy brochure with garish-colored prints, we have a volume worthy to lie on 
the library table and to be used as the companion of the kindergarten. 

A Book of Nursery Songs and Rhymes is a product of the Lippincott house, 
by that veteran editor of folk-lore, Mr. S. Baring-Gould, assisted on the side 
of art by members of the Birmingham Art School, under the direction of Mr. 
A. J. Gaskin. And it is safe to say that never before did the old rhymes have 
such a setting. Each page is a work of decorative art in itself, and the type 
is broad and large for the assistance of young readers. The contents consist 
of nearly all the known nursery songs common to English-speaking children, 
together with a section of Game Rhymes and Nursery Jingles. It is refreshing 
even for an older head to encounter again the originals of “Twinkle, twinkle, 
little star,” and “Where are you going, my pretty maid?” and to discover that 
the lines which so often hover in our minds are but portions of longer poems. 
All this and much more is the reward for obtaining Mr. Baring-Gould’s book, 
and there is no boy or girl who will regret it as a gift for Christmas or any 
other day in the year. 


A Book of Nursery 
Songs and Rhymes. 
Edited by S. Baring- 
Gould. With Illus- 
trations by Mem- 
bers of the B i r- 
mingbam Art 
School. 


bright boy or girl. 

The Wizard King. 
A Story of the Last 
Moslem Invasion of 
Europe. By David 
Ker. Illustrated 
by W. S, Stacey. 


THE POWER BENEATH. 


733 


THE POWER BENEATH 


As the bow unto the cord is, 

So unto the man is woman ; 

Though she bends him, she obeys him ; 
Though she draws him, vet she follows ; 
Useless one without the other. 



This is love and Fibre Chamois. 

Fibre Chamois is a light, crinkly stiffening. 

It is odorless, elastic, yet substantial. 

It is impervious to the elements. 

It is sewn in with the garment seams, — so, 

Rain or shine, muss or crush, it retains the 
original shape given it by the directing hand 
of the dressmaker. 

Yields to pressure — certainly ; but immedi- 
ately regains its shape. 

Follows every fold faithfully, and preserves 
each expensively developed dress 
eccentricity. 

u Useless one without the other.” 

Not for a day — a week — but for 
all time. 

Different — all this — from those 
morning glories, hair-cloth, crin- 
oline. 

Ever had them rain-soaked ? 

Trunk-jammed ? 

Crowd -creased ? 

Bouffante, airy, flary in the 
morning; limp and shrivelled at night? 

As to Fibre Chamois : 

Whatever determination its elastic in- 
tegrity gives to sleeve and skirt remains. 

You simply can crush it. 

It doesn’t soak. 

It never gets limp. 

It is always comfortable. 

Comfortable ! Fancy our grandmothers. 

Their leg-o’ -mutton sleeves and full pleated skirts were sustained by sweltering wads 
of down, and natural pliancy and sinuous grace stalked about like unlubricated compasses. 

At the sea-side. There’s a test. 

In the crinoline regimen every moisture-laden breeze was a successful conspirator in 
the fall of the regal fulness of the sleeve and in the lagging limpness of the skirt flare. 

But there is neither starch, glue, nor other thing meltable in the composition of 
“ Fibre Chamois.” 


734 


THE POWER BENEATH. 



Dampness cannot affect it. 

Gowns lined with it may be voluminously ample and fluffy in rain or shine. 

It comes in three weights : light, medium, heavy. 

In four colors : black, slate, brown, and natural. 

The price is 35 cents a yard. 

The breadth is 64 inches. 

As to wear : 

This does not crease it, or modify its original setting. 

If it gives a bell-like flamboyancy to a skirt, this, 
peculiarity remains ; and it maintains whatever individ- 
uality the designer pleases in soft silks, with no sign 
of fray. 

Hitherto any linings which have ever 
approximated these desirable results (and 
that’s all they have done) have ravelled 
through the skirt binding or abraded the 
dainty veneer of an exquisite shoe. 

In short : Fibre Chamois has shaping 
persistency without uncompromising deter- 
minateness. 

It sinks and moulds 
In seam and folds, 

And fills and fits 
To all it holds. 

With all this fluff and 
antique voluminousness there 
is either coolness or warmth, 
as may be desired, with always! 
the same effect ; for Fibre 
Chamois is adjusted in weight 
(as hinted above) to every dress 
exigency. 

Another feature : 

It always cuts to advanl 
tage : an important considera- 
tion when one remembers 
that the full skirt, like 
Gladstone intoxicated 
with the exuberance of 
his own verbosity, 
seems destined to 
swell and fold fuller 
than ever. 

Its extra breadth embraces the proper artistic continuity for effective flaring and grace- 
ful lines. 

Fully to appreciate all this, observe some of the recent stage heroines. 

The complications through which they evolute may be almost archaic in their setting, 
but are beautifully inconsequent in the feature of costuming. 

While the villain pursues, in the simulated swoon, in the scramble of quick change, 
— no matter, the persecuted lady always manages to preserve the sinuous flare or the 
buoyant swell of the skirt and the bursting picturesqueness of the sleeve. 

For, after the hurly-burly of it all, a slight shake, a delicate preen, is all that is needed, 
and Fibre Chamois is itself again. 

The writer can call to mind no ordeals more trying to dress form than these histrionic 
gambols. 


THE POWER BENEATH. 


735 



Another tester : the evening dress ! 

Filmy fabrics, as a rule, intend to suggest all of the exquisite proportions they hide, 
or to fold and swell as an ample disguise. 

Here, again, will Fibre Chamois measure to the emergency: 

Fit to every dress line and curve ; 

Fit like the silver lining to the cloud, invisibly identified with its billowy convolutions ; 

Fit, with no suggestion of its sustaining presence; 

Invisible and as necessary as the skeleton to the 
human frame. 

There can be no persistent daintiness and airiness 
i without it. 

So the filmy, fragile illusion may flaunt and 
float in the mazes of the dance, 

Flutter and flatten in the crush of dinner 
• stampede, 

Momentarily assume the yielding flexibility 
I induced by the boldness of the lover’s arm in 
the conservatory — but — 

The moment after, like a bird emerging 
\ from the ruffle and souse of a morning’s dip, 
a shrug, a directing undulation, and Fibre 
1 Chamois immediately returns to its original 
integrity, 

And the floating flare and airy frou-frou 
dazzle and enchant the same as ever. 

Whenever the skirt must hang in graceful 
pleats, interlining is an absolute necessity. 

In the past, this indispensable adjunct has 
miserably failed in several essentials. 

First, if the stiffening maintained the 
identity intended, it would do that and 
nothing else. 

That is to say, it could not be at 
j once firm and pliant. 

Fibre Chamois is never so uncom- 
promising. 

In this respect it closely resembles 
in point of graceful utility that agree- 
able and successful combination, Prac- 
i tical Courtesy, 

Force and Grace, 

Each an adjunct to the other, 

A winning and effective, kindly firmness, appearing to yield, but always in control. 

Again — the old stiffenings were characterized by the fact that they could be one of 
two things : 

A success, provided they were undisturbed ; 

A failure, in the presence of the simplest disarranging causes. 

Fibre Chamois ends as it begins. 

It has but one characteristic : adjustable practicability under all circumstances. 

Then the minor but essential dress details : 


Collars; Belts; Revers. 

If they do not properly and persistently conform to the general dress shape, the gown 
is a failure. 

Collars have a tendency to break and crease — 

Belts wrinkle and curl — 


736 


THE POWER BENEATH. 


Revers sag and flap, — until 

Fibre Chamois interlines them, and then the conformation which at first delighted 

continues to delight without mar or change. 
Riding habits — 

Bicycle garbs — 

Jackets— all these are successfully lined 
with Fibre Chamois. 

With all these good features, which so 
fully measure to that ancient phrase, “ filling 
a long-felt want,” — features which have had 
such extensive heralding and commendation 
on all sides, — it is natural that the imitator 
and the substitutor should 
begin their characteristic 
chicanery. 

However, remember 
one thing : 

If Fibre Chamois 
were not so unmistakably 
good, it would not be 
worth while to imitate it. 

To get the original, 
then, ask for Fibre 
Chamois ; 

Insist on Fibre Chamois ; 

Accept no substitute for Fibre 
Chamois. 

Any woman is justified in resenting 
any attempt to suggest a “just as good” 
or “ something better.” 

These insinuations do not come 
with propriety from the dealer: 

It is the customer’s privilege 
express dissatisfaction. 

Make up your mind on 
another point : 

Complaint on the part 
of a dealer in the case of 
any well-established article 
is a matter of profit, — 
margin, solely. 

The quality of the 
goods, as a rule, is not 
taken into consider- 
ation if an inferior 
article enhances the 
returns. 

What is known, 
and tried, and be- 
lieved in, is always 
better than any un- 
known and experi- 

mental quantity. 

Women who have used Fibre Chamois become its best advertisements. 

Let this be its recommendation. 





CURRENT NOTES. 




Absolutely 

Pure* 


Vol. LVI.— 47 


738 


CURRENT NOTES. 


Dumas as a Candidate. — The elder Dumas, says the Nbw York Times, 
stood in 1848 for the Chamber of Deputies, and this was his address to the 


electors : 

“ I am a candidate for the office of Deputy. I ask your votes. These are 
my reasons why you should give them to me. Not counting six years devoted 
to the acquirement of an education, four years passed in performing the duties 
of a notary, and seven years as an employee of the government, I have worked 
ten hours a day for twenty years. That makes seventy-three thousand hours. 

“ During those twenty years I wrote four hundred volumes and thirty-five 


plays. 

“ Of each of the four hundred volumes an average of four thousand copies 
have been printed and sold for five francs each. The thirty-five plays have each 
been performed, on an average, one hundred times. 

“ My books have produced — 

Francs. 


For the compositors 

For the pressmen 

For the paper-makers 

For the binders 

For the booksellers 

For the jobbers ( courtiers ) 

For the agents ( commissionnaires ), 

For the handlers of freight 

For the circulating libraries 

For the illustrators 

Total 


264.000 

528.000 

633.000 

120.000 

2.400.000 

1.600.000 
1,600,000 

100,000 

4,580,000 

28,600 

11,853,600 


My plays have produced — 

Francs. 

1.400.000 

Orttrvro 1.225.000 


210.000 



700,000 

For the supernumeraries......... ......... .................. 

350,000 

For the watchmen and firemen 

4 Vi o H pn 1 prs in woftd _ 

70,000 

70,000 

For the sewing-women...... 

50,000 

Pnr fbp nil-Hpfl,lftrs .... 

525,000 

For the scene-makers 

60,000 


257,000 


630.000 

Kill rasters 80.000 

For the sweepers #••••• •••••• ••••••••• «••••• •••••• •••••••••••••• 

20,000 


60,000 

Pai* tbo on^itorQ nnrl pmnlovP.PS 

140,000 

For the machinists ... 

180,000 

For the coiffeurs 

93,000 

Total 

6,360,600 


“Taking three francs a day as the average pay of a workingman, and as 
there are three hundred working days in the year, my books have paid for 
twenty years the wages of six hundred and ninety-two people and my plays the 
wages for ten years of three hundred and forty-seven people ; but the last figure 
must be multiplied by three to include the provinces, making one thousand 
and forty-one, and adding seventy for the ushers, chiefs of the claque , and cab- 
drivers, makes a total of fourteen hundred and fifty-eight. 

“ Plays and books, then, have paid the wages of two thousand one hundred 
and sixty people for all these years, — not counting Belgian pirates and foreign 
translators.” 

Yet he was not elected. 


CURRENT NOTES. 


739 



Those “smart” officers 

use 


SAPOLIO 


to dazzle the fair sex! 



740 


CURRENT NOTES. 


An Episode in Autograph-Hunting. — When Mr. Joseph Chamberlain 
was made a Cabinet minister, he got hundreds of requests for his autograph. 
For a time he answered each one in an autograph note, but the labor involved 
became so great that finally he had a printed form prepared, running, “ Your 
request of such a date is hereby complied with.” Then when an autograph 
request came in he simply signed this blank form and let it go at that. 

One day a tall, raw-boned Warwickshire man walked into his office. 
“ Morning,” said he. 

“ Good-morning,” said Mr. Chamberlain, looking up. 

“ I came for that place you promised me,” said the countryman, after an 
awkward pause. 

“ Place? I promised you no place,” said Mr. Chamberlain. 

“ Yes, you did,” insisted the countryman, stoutly. “ I’ve got your promise 
in your own handwriting.” With that he hauled out one of the autograph 
replies, “ Your request of such a date.” 

“But, man alive,” said Mr. Chamberlain, “that was in response to a re- 
quest from you for my autograph.” 

“ No, ’twasn’t,” said the man. “ I never asked for no autograph. I want 
a place. That’s what I wrote for.” 

Mr. Chamberlain had the man’s letter hunted up, and, sure enough, he 
found that it was a formal application for a place. 

“ Here,” said the perplexed minister, emptying into his big hand all the 
money he had in his pocket. “ I can’t give you a place. I haven’t any to 
give.” 

And with that the man had to be content. 

“Luke’s Iron Crown.” — One of the most awful modes of punishment 
inflicted by the law-invested barbarians of olden times was that jocularly re- 
ferred to by the old Inquisitors as “ Luke’s iron crown.” I can only find record 
of one country — Hungary — where it became the recognized mode of killing 
criminals convicted of enormous crimes (and there it was used only on regi- 
cides), but several other governments are known to have used it in aggravated 
cases. This mode of punishment with an apostolic name consisted in placing a 
crown of red-hot iron upon the head and leaving it there until the sizzling flesh 
and bone burned away and allowed the very brain of the writhing wretch to be 
fried to a crisp before life had entirely left the body. Could even a hoofed and 
horned, spike-tailed devil, fresh from the infernal regions, devise a more in- 
human method of inflicting the death-penalty? 

The term “ Luke’s iron crown” was applied to this method of legal killing 
because it was first used in ridding Hungary of a rebel named Luke Dosa. 
Luke and his brother George headed a revolt, and the former allowed himself 
to be crowned king by his followers. When finally taken by the government, 
they made the crown business “ too hot for him,” — an example to future would- 
be kings. — St. Louis Republic. 

A Chill for Reggie. — She. — “ You know, Reggie, that girls are being 
called by the names of flowers now, and my sister suggested that I should be 
called Thistle.” 

Reggie. — “ Oh, yes, I see ; because you are so sharp.” 

She. — “ Oh, no ; she said it was because a donkey loved me.” — Boston 
Globe. 


CURRENT NOTES. 


741 



^jmnjirLnjinjin 


I What MELBA says: 

| “ I highly commend the genuine Johann Hoff’s Malt Extract 

§ I use it with s^7 

I my daily diet. \J //7 ^ - 

It improves my /yyy ' 

appetite and / //y s/// S * r / 
g digestion won- * isls is '^us ls 

| derfully.” — 


Beware of imitations. The genuine ^ * 

Johann Hoff’s Malt Extract has the signature 

on neck label. Eisner & Mendelson Co., > 

Sole Agents, New York. 

'injrnjTJTJTJULmxrLruiixmuTJTJiJxariJTrLnjTJTJTJTm 


•UlTUTmTJTTl^^ 



742 


CURRENT NOTES. 


Chicago Etiquette. — At a cake-walk in Greenebaum’s Hall, the other 
night, the following notice was posted on the door leading to the refreshment 
room : 

“ Gents without ladies will not be allowed to dance twice in succession 
with the same lady unless the lady requests it.”— Chicago Tribune. 

The National Typewriter. — One of the first buildings that meet one’s 
eye on entering Philadelphia by the great Pennsylvania Railroad is the five- 
story structure, occupying an entire square, in which the now famous National 
typewriter is made. It is located on the historic Schuylkill (Twenty-Third 
and Arch Streets), in the centre of the City of Brotherly Love, and has a private 
railroad siding running into the building, so that the production of the factory 
can be loaded directly into the cars for transportation to any point in the world. 
The factory is superbly equipped with all that goes to aid in the making of 
perfect writing machines. 

That the National is the least complicated, and therefore the least liable to 
get out of order, of any machine made, is demonstrated by the fact that its mech- 
anism requires only about one-third as many parts as other standard machines. 
With but twenty-nine keys to manipulate, it is capable of printing from eighty- 
one to eighty-five characters, including capitals, small letters, punctuation marks, 
commercial signs, figures, etc., which is a greater number than is made by most 
machines. 

The arrangement of its key-board has secured for the National the smallest 
size and lightest weight of any machine of its standard character. The arrange- 
ment of the letters in the key-board is the same as that in most machines, while 
the keys themselves are so arranged, in three short semicircular rows, as to en- 
able the operator to use the hands and fingers in their natural positions, with the 
least effort and greatest speed. 

It has an entirely original finger-key action, there being no levers employed. 
The type-bar movement is extremely simple ; the keys act directly upon the 
type-bar, there being no swivels, turn-buckles, or take-up devices between the 
finger-key and the type-bar. The type-bar hanger and guide show an ingenious 
movement, which practically guides and locks the bar at the printing point. 

One of the strongest features of this machine is the possibility of doing 
“many-color work.” A single word can be written so that each letter will be 
of a different color ; the change from a copying to a non-Copying ribbon can be 
made instantly. The automatic pointer or tabulator is also a marked feature, 
as well as the single scale, which has double indications upon it. 

Space forbids going further into details, but it remains to be said that long 
years’ experience, together with comparative simplicity of mechanism, has en- 
abled the National Company to give better value for sixty dollars than can be 
bought in the market to-day for one hundred dollars. The company’s motto 
is, “ Irrespective of Price, the Best ; Trial Proves It.” 

The company, on application, furnish a beautiful pamphlet, descriptive of 
their machine, and containing other valuable matter. 

A Woman’s Telegram. — It has never been explained why a woman, in 
sending a telegram to friends to meet her at a railway station, never mentions 
the time when she expects to arrive, and quite often neglects to mention the 
road over which she is coming. It is a fact nevertheless. — Chicago Tribune. 


CURRENT NOTES. 


743 


nothing lost 

Scott’s Emulsion makes cod-liver oil taking 
next thing to a pleasure. You hardly taste it. The 
stomach knows nothing about it — it does not trouble 
you there. You feel it first in the strength that it 
brings : it shows in the color of the cheek, the 
rounding of the angles, the smoothing of the 
wrinkles. 

It is cod-liver oil digested for you, slipping as 
easily into the blood and losing itself there as rain- 
drops lose themselves in the ocean. 

What a satisfactory thing this is — to hide the 
odious taste of cod-liver oil, evade the tax on the 
stomach, take health by surprise. 

There is no secret of what it is made of — the fish- 
fat taste is lost, but nothing is lost but the taste. 

Perhaps your druggist has a substitute for Scott’s Emulsion. 

Isn’t the standard all others try to equal the best for you to buy? 

Scott & Bowne 


50 cents and $1.00 
All Druggists 


Chemists, 


NEW YORK 


744 


CURRENT NOTES. 


How Hebrew Women used Cosmetics. — The Hebrew women had 
learned in Egypt all the fashionable vanities, and carried them with them into 
the desert and afterwards into the land of Canaan. As in these days, the pro- 
fuse use of cosmetics by women caused odious comparisons, and there were, 
besides, prophets, like Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel, who discoursed on the 
vanities of the fair sex with a plainness, a brutality even, surpassing that of 
John Knox preaching to Mary Queen of Scots. The experience of the world 
has shown that the reproofs and warnings of preachers are powerless against 
female vanity, and the prophets of Israel were no exception, for among the 
women of the chosen people the practice in question was common, if not uni- 
versal. In the Proverbs of Solomon, the son, when he is advised to keep the 
commandments of his father and the law of his mother, is especially counselled 
not to be taken by the eyelids of women, from which it would appear that the 
use of kohl, as practised by the women of modern Egypt, was then known. Kohl 
is obtained by burning and crushing frankincense or the shells of almonds. 
There are similar suggestions in the prophets. Jezebel, queen of King Ahaziah, 
who is remembered only for her badness and her tragic death, wishing to appease 
Jehu, who had just slain her husband, painted her face, tired her head, and 
looked out of a window. The sacred historian leaves it uncertain whether or 
not it was the painted face that aroused the ire of Jehu, — which was hardly 
possible, for he must have seen many such, — but he ordered her to be thrown 
out of the window, and she was trodden under the feet of his horses and after- 
wards devoured by jackals . — San Francisco Chronicle. 


Charms for Diseases. — Lists of potions, decoctions, and remedies resorted 
to not only by Dyaks, Finns, and Badagas, but by Greek philosophers such as 
Serapion and Alexander of Tralles, are by no means attractive. It is sufficient 
to say that they are the quintessence of everything noxious, repulsive, and 
nasty. Eye of newt, toe of frog, and the liver of blaspheming Jew are savory 
and delicate in comparison. But no one could find fault with this ancient pre- 
scription for a good physician : He should be truthful, of a calm temper, not 
peevish with an irritable patient, hopeful to the last day of his patient’s life, 
and rigid in seeing that his orders are carried out. 

In China, whether the family physician possesses the above qualities or not, 
his salary is stopped as soon as the householder falls sick. The difficulty of this 
situation is enhanced by the rule that after feeling the pulse and looking at the 
tongue the physician is not to ask any troublesome questions nor may the sick 
man volunteer any information. An old Roman was not above the use of what 
are called magic songs, but which seem pure gibberish. A dislocation was to 
be reduced by the utterance of the formula “ Huat, hanat, pista, ista, damniato, 
damnaustra.” The closing words seem more allied to the language of the 
modern cabman than to that of the elder Cato, to whom it is ascribed. 

Not much more civilized are such Anglo-Saxon phrases as the following: 
To remove dust or particles from the eye, you should spit thrice and say three 
times, “ Tetunc resonco, bregan gresso to stanch blood, say the words, “ Sisy- 
cuma, cucuma, incuma, cuma, uma, ma, a and to cure the toothache, spit in 
the mouth of a frog, and say, “ Argidam, margidam, sturgidam.” For quinsy, 
however, you need only press the throat with the thumb and the ring and middle 
fingers, cocking up the other two, and tell the disease to be gone .— Saturday 
Review. 


CURRENT NOTES. 


745 



/*£• NH.F/*ir*8AMH 

i i *~ 




4 "?bat* * ^ 
^ChicaOO; 


qT J-1 C/ v. 


4 'fl8AN* 1 

c HicaOO 


Genuine COTTOLENE always has trade-mark— steer's head in cotton-plant wreath — on 
every tin. Made only by The N. K. Fairbank Company, Chicago, St. Louis, 
New York, Boston, Philadelphia, San Francisco, Montreal. 


THE NEW SHORTENING 


746 


CURRENT NOTES. 


Miss Train’s story, “ A Social Highwayman,” which appeared in Lippin- 
COTT’s for July last, has been dramatized, and was produced with great success 
at the Garrick Theatre in New York on September 24. The leading papers 
in that city hailed the piece as a valuable addition to the resources of the Amer- 
ican stage. 

Reprisals. — In the summer of 1563 eight English merchantmen anchored 
in the roads at Gibraltar. England and France were then at war. A French 
brig came in after them, and brought up near. At sea, if they could take her, 
she would have been a lawful prize. Spaniards under similar circumstances 
had not respected the neutrality of English harbors. The Englishmen were 
perhaps in doubt what to do, when the officers of the Holy Office came off to 
the French ship. The sight of the black familiars drove the English wild. 
Three of them made a dash at the French ship, intending to sink her. The 
Inquisitors sprang into their boat and rowed for their lives. The castle guns 
opened, and the harbor police put out to interfere. The French ship, however, 
would have been taken, when, unluckily, Alvarez de Ba 9 an, with a Spanish 
squadron, came round into the straits. Resistance was impossible. 

The eight English ships were captured and carried off to Cadiz. The 
English flag was trailed under de Ba$an’s stern. The crews, two hundred and 
forty men in all, were promptly condemned to the galleys. In defence they 
could but say that the Frenchman was an enemy, and a moderate punishment 
would have sufficed for a violation of the harbor rules which the Spaniards 
themselves so little regarded. But the Inquisition was inexorable, and the men 
were treated with such peculiar brutality that after nine months ninety only of 
the two hundred and forty were alive. 

Ferocity was answered by ferocity. Listen to this! The Cobhams of 
Cowling Castle were Protestants by descent. Lord Cobham was famous in the 
Lollard martyrology. Thomas Cobham, one of the family, had taken to the 
sea, like many of his friends. While cruising in the Channel he caught sight 
of a Spaniard on the way from Antwerp to Cadiz with forty prisoners on board 
consigned, it might be supposed, to the Inquisition. 

They were, of course, Inquisition prisoners ; for other offenders would have 
been dealt with on the spot. Cobham chased her down into the Bay of Biscay, 
took her, scuttled her, and rescued the captives. But that was not enough. 
The captain and crew he sewed up in their own mainsail, and flung them over- 
board. They were washed ashore dead, wrapped in their extraordinary winding- 
sheet. Cobham was called to account for this exploit, but he does not seem to 
have been actually punished. In a very short time he was out and away again 
at the old work. There were plenty with him. — J. A. Froude, in Longman’s 
Magazine. 

Life’s Whirligig. — Interested Friend. — “ And your boys are all educated 
and gone to themselves, Mr. Jones?” 

Jones. — “Yes, all in perfeshn’l life in the city.” 

“ And who’s working your great farm?” 

“ Well, I’ve got three fellers tryin’ t’ work it, but makin’ mighty poor fists 
uv ’t.” 

“ Where are they from ?” 

“ Perfeshn’l men ’t starved out in the city .” — Cleveland Plain Dealer. 


CURRENT NOTES. 


747 


riddle cakes. 
Waffles and 
nuffins are 



delicious 
and whole- 
Jsome when 

3 a a e 7 Citk_ 



ye (Indent tDay 

3nne olben bayes, ye gallant knigfyte 
XDitfye blabe in tourney fougfyte ; 

£ys pennante tt>ar>eb bye baye & nigfyte, 

^ts lyfe fye fyelb as naugfyte. 

Soe mfyenne fye bybe on crimson fielbe 
bjys labye broopeb lykemise ; 

£ys castle faire, fyis arms be sfyielbe, 
Bys nictor tooke as prize. 

Tl>e M-od^rr) Way 

In modern days, no lance or spear 
Waves he who fights through life ; 

He battles for a hearthstone dear, 

For children and for wife. 

So, should he fall, no baron bold 
Treads in by loot allured : 

The home he made his children hold ; 

The modern knight’s insured. 

PENN MUTUAL LIFE 

921 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia 


748 


CURRENT NOTES. 


Too Much Education. — Ever since the enormous enlargement, numeri- 
cally, of the English universities there can be little doubt that the value of a 
degree has gone down commercially. The number of first-class men seeking 
work and finding none is a sorry comment on the development of the English 
university system. If this is true of the first class, what must be the lot of the 
second, the third, and the pass man? The learned professions, in fact, are 
overcrowded. The cause of this unhappy crowding of the market for brain- 
laborers is not far to seek. An immense number of persons who in former 
times would have worked with their hands as their fathers did before them are 
being educated to work with their heads. There is a general levelling up of 
the social grades, if you look at it optimistically. The son of the artisan 
becomes a clerk, the son of the clerk aspires to teach in a school, the son of the 
school-teacher aspires to go to Oxford or Cambridge. But this levelling up is 
not an unmixed blessing. The result is that we have fifty times too many 
clerks, — two hundred applied for an insignificant post advertised in the Times 
the other day, — ten times too many half-educated teachers, and, alas ! ten times 
too many university graduates turned out every year to crowd the ranks of the 
bar, the schools, and journalism, and recruit the year’s crop of miserable and 
hopeless failures. None of these people can dig as their fathers did ; they 
cannot make shop-boys, or ’bus-men, or crossing-sweepers. Too many of them 
can only teach or starve. It is really impossible to deny that a certain degree 
of intellectual education unfits a man to work with his hands and earn his 
bread as a laborer. It may be that it ought not to do so, but in the present 
imperfect state of the world so it is. Therefore, somehow or other, places must 
be found for this enormous harvest of tolerable scholars as school-masters or 
something analogous in the social scale. Every year the problem is how to do 
it. That problem formerly the university solved by the fellowship system. The 
number of scholars was small, and they had a fellowship apiece. That solution 
is no longer possible, even if it were desirable. Then the universities tried 
ignoring the problem altogether. They, as it were, denied liability. Their 
position was, “ Our business is to provide facilities for learning for those who 
wish to learn, and opportunities to study for those who care to study. We have 
no duties beyond that. When our men have attained, by the help of our en- 
dowments, to a degree, the connection between us terminates. They must shift 
for themselves.” Theoretically, of course, this was undeniably a logical posi- 
tion which they could very fairly take up ; but in practice they must be held 
responsible, in some degree at least, for the men whom they have raised out of 
their own position in life by scholarships and exhibitions specially offered for 
necessitous persons . — Saturday Review. 

Couldn’t Fool the Elephant. — An elephant was sent to Nagerboil for 
the purpose of piling timber by the Dewan, who requested the wife of a missionary 
there to be good enough to see the animal fed, and thus prevent its keeper from 
abstracting its food. It was therefore brought to the house for this purpose, 
and at first all went on correctly, but after a time it was suspected that the 
amount of rice was getting smaller and smaller, so one day the keeper was re- 
monstrated with, and of course protested against the imputation of having taken 
it, adding, in true native phraseology, “ Madam, do you think I could rob my 
child?” The elephant looked on most sagaciously, and at this stage of the pro- 
ceedings quietly threw his trunk around his keeper and untied his bulky waist- 
cloth, when the missing rice fell to the ground. 


CURRENT NOTES. 


749 



HARRIET HUBBARD AYER, 

Manufacturer by Permission to H.R.H. 

The Princess of Wales. 

Recamier Toilet 
Preparations. 

Recamier Cream, for Tan, Sunburn, etc. Price, $1.50. 
Recamier Balm, a Beautifier (Imperceptible). Price, $1.50. 
Recamier Lotion, for Moth and Freckles. Price, $1.50. 
Recamier Powder, will stay on and not show. Price, 50 cents. 
Recamier Soap, Purest Made. Price, 25 cents and 50 cents. 
Recamier Wrinkle Specific, for Removing Lines and Wrinkles. Price, $5.00. ^ 

Recamier Depilatory, Guaranteed to Permanently Remove Superfluous Hair. Price, $5.00. * 

For Sale by Druggists and Fancy Goods Dealers. 

Send 2-cent stamp for Sample of Powder, Pamphlet, and Bargain Offer. 

Mail Orders Promptly Filled. 

HA 



Refuse Substitutes. 


131 West 31st St., New York, 


Letters from the People. 


Constantly, since 1877, I have used Dobbins’ Electric 
Soap, and, though I have tried many other kinds, I have 
never found any that gave me such satisfaction as Dobbins’ 
Electric. I send you 300 wrappers for fifteen volumes of 
your Sunset Series of books. 

MRS. F. J. BOYDEN, Leominster , Mass. 


I know by using Dobbins’ Electric Soap that it is the 
best, purest, and most economical soap made. I have tried 
many kinds, but Dobbins’ Electric Soap is the best in the 
country. Mrs. A. W. Winter, Steelton, Pa, 

Have used Dobbins’ Electric Soap for eight years, and 
find it does all you claim it to do. It has no equal for 
washing all kinds of clothes. 

Mrs. R. A. Hamill, Cochranville , Pa. 

I use lots of Dobbins’ Electric Soap and like it better 
than any soap I have ever found. 

Mrs. J. W. Carlisle, Foster City , Mich. 


I have forwarded you to-day 60 Dobbins’ Electric Soap 
wrappers, and wish in return the picture you send out for 
that number. You make the best laundry soap made. I 
have used many different brands, but yours is the best. I 
use it in the bath as well. I always keep a supply on 
hand, as it gets dry and hard, and lasts just thrice as long 
as the cheap, common trash called soap. 

Mrs. E. B. Johnson, Nahant , Mass. 

I like Dobbins’ Electric Soap better than any other kind, 
and I have used a good many. It is so nice for white 
clothes, and will not take the colors out of colored clothes, 
and very fine for washing blankets. There is some satisfac- 
tion, I should say a great satisfaction, in washing under- 
garments with Dobbins’ Electric Soap. It being free from 
rosin, they are always soft, and they are not full of little 
hard clumps that cause one a great deal of uneasiness. I 
feel sure that when clothes are washed with Dobbins’ 
Electric Soap they last much longer. 

Mrs. W. V. Hansen, Bloomfield , N.J. 


Ask your Grocer for Dobbins’ EleCtlMC Soap. Thirty years- 
sale and reputation as the best and most economical Soap in the 

world ' DOBBINS SOAP MFG. CO., PHILADELPHIA. 


750 


CURRENT NOTES. 


An Obscure Litterateur. — It seems odd that a man could make twelve 
thousand dollars a year in New York by writing fiction, die, and remain as 
utterly unknown as if he had never existed. Arthur Elder Nelson was such a 
man. He did not get even a three-line obituary in any newspaper. His deal- 
ings were mostly with two huge New York concerns devoted exclusively to the 
manufacture of dime and half-dime novels, and his specialty was the fiction 
that deals with boy pirates, boy highwaymen, boy robbers, and other equally 
interesting juveniles. He started six years ago, when he was twenty-five. 
Educated and refined (he was an Oxford man), he came to this country shortly 
after attaining his majority. 

His first effort in the line of blood-and-thunder narrative was made during 
his leisure as a drug clerk. The success of his production encouraged him to 
persevere, and for the last two years he had worked steadily. His publishers 
say that his own share of the profits of his pen last year was twelve thousand 
dollars, and he lived pretty well up to his income. He spoke four languages, 
and his wide reading and ripe scholarship enabled him to wander at will in the 
highways of literature, plundering wherever he saw an opportunity. Thus his 
works were, as a rule, mere plagiarisms brought down to his readers’ level. He 
never aspired to anything higher. 

Certainly if he had wished to be a serious writer his income could never 
have exceeded, say, three thousand five hundred dollars a year, even had he 
attained great vogue. As it was, he kept a horse and carriage and enjoyed life 
like a sybarite, being unmarried and uncontrolled. And not even his thousands 
of admirers scattered through the school-rooms, district telegraph offices, and 
street corners of this republic had any idea of his personality . — Philadelphia 
Press. 

Not What She Wanted. — Edith. — “ Ma, that new maid is awful stupid.” 

Mamma. — “What has she done?” 

Edith. — “I wanted to practise a little, so I sent her to the music-room for 
‘The Lost Chord.’ ” 

Mamma. — “ Well?” 

Edith. — “She brought me the clothes-line .” — Texas Siftings. 

Dangerous Pets. — I never liked pet tame leopards, and I will only warn 
young officers in India against keeping them as pets. They may be very well 
behaved to their own master, but when a visitor comes to call, not knowing 
anything about the existence of a leopard in the house, it is very unpleasant to 
him to find a huge beast coming sniffing up to him and raising its head as if to 
lick his face. The visitor is probably seated in the darkened drawing-room, and 
the servant who introduced him has gone off to call his master, who is said to 
be dressing or bathing. 

I remember an exceedingly bad quarter of an hour that I spent in a certain 
subaltern’s bungalow with a strange leopard as my only companion, for the 
native servant did not come back to the drawing-room, as he had a holy horror 
of the leopard on his own account. When at last my young friend appeared, 
he could hardly believe that any one could be afraid of such a harmless, playful 
animal as his leopard. I thought otherwise, and did not repeat my call. Before 
the end of a month this leopard bit his own master, — of course in play ; but 
the warning was taken, and the master had the skull and skin very handsomely 
set up as a souvenir of his old pet. — C. T. Buckland, in Longman’s Magazine. 


CURRENT NOTES. 


751 



A National Prize of 
16,600 Francs. 


AN INVIGORATING TONIC 



CONTAINING 


Peruvian Bark iP Pure Catalan Wine 

(The same prepared with Iron, also with Phosphates), 

_ _ _ _ . FOR THE CURE OF 

MALARIA, 

INDIGESTION, 

FEVER and AGUE, 

POORNESS OF THE BLOOD, 

NEURALGIA, 

LOSS OF APPETITE, 

WASTING DISEASES, 

and GENERAL DEBILITY. 

For sale by all Druggists. 

22 Rue Drouot, E. FOUGERA & CO., Agents, 

Paris. 26-28 N. William Street, New York. 


To Wear, 
or Not to Wear 

Bloomers? 

That’s the question — whether ’tis better to don 
the new-styled garb or suffer the annoyance 
of greasy skirts — Ah, there’s the rub — and yet 
it requires but little rubbing to clean the skirts 
with 




EMU®. 

The perfect soap for washing white goods or any goods of dainty 
color and texture. Try it. Five cents per piece at the grocer’s. 
Made only by 

The INI. K. Fairbank Company, 


CHICAGO. 


NEW YORK. 


ST. EOUIS. 



752 


CURRENT NOTES. 


The Roman Carnival. — It is curious to note how all writers insist upon 
the carnival as a specially popular festival, for, though the people, of course, 
took their part as spectators and jostled and jested with each other in a strug- 
gling mass in the Corso, still it was eminently a feast provided for them by the 
aristocracy. The people had little more to do with the active part of it than 
the rank and file of the Achaeans and Trojans had to do with the Homeric 
battles, for much money had to be spent upon it. 

In 1499 Sebastiano Pinzoni writes, “The Roman aristocracy hold high 
festival, and it goes badly with such as have no money.” In 1634 the jousts 
which Cardinal Antonio Barberini arranged, with dresses and one thing and 
another, cost more than fifty thousand scudi. Especially in the races for Bar- 
bary horses up the Corso there was always great emulation among the noblest 
houses in Rome, and the nobles would hang up the banners which were the 
prizes in their private chapels. Thus, from the middle of the seventeenth to 
the middle of the eighteenth century we find all the most aristocratic names in 
Rome on the list of winners. 

Toward the end of last century their interest was on the wane, for Goethe 
says that in 1788 the horse-races were no longer confined to the aristocracy, but 
the middle and lower classes also took part in them : “ The great men are par- 
simonious: they hold aloof from the proceedings a great contrast with 1761, 
when, according to Casanova, “ all that was noblest and most brilliant in Rome 
mixed freely with the common people.” From which it would seem that in the 
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries the rich spent freely, and made the real 
carnival for the poor; but to-day the positions are reversed, and the poor spend 
all the money to make a carnival of quite a different kind for themselves, in 
which the element of speculation plays a prominent part, and the aristocracy, 
as a rule, ignore the whole proceeding, though visitors contribute largely toward 
its expenses by hiring balconies and otherwise taking part in what is to them a 
novelty. 

As things go at present, it is not likely to improve ; a good carnival costs 
too much money, and the aristocracy hold their carnival in their private houses 
and palaces. The carnival at Nice, with its battle of flowers, is made by the 
rich visitors, and the American carnival at New Orleans is by no means a 
festival made by the people. — The Gentleman's Magazine. 


How Private Allen got his Nickname. — “ I never knew until to-day, ” 
said a well-known Georgia politician, “ how Representative Allen, of Missis- 
sippi, got the nickname ‘ Private’ John Allen.” 

“ How was it?” somebody asked. 

“ He was running for Congress against General Tucker, out in Mississippi, 
and Tucker made a speech one day whooping himself up on his war record. 
He started out by saying, in a stentorian voice, ‘ I slept one night before the 
battle in a tent ’ 

“This was enough for Allen. When he got up to speak, he said, ‘Yes, 
boys, General Tucker did sleep in that tent that night, and I stood guard on 
picket around the tent. Now, all you here to-day who slept in tents vote for 
Tucker, but those who stood guard in the rain and cold vote for John Allen.’ 
From that moment to this he has been called ‘ Private’ John Allen. Of course 
he was elected .” — Atlanta Constitution. 




CURRENT NOTES. 


753 


Water 






That’s all you need 
Don’t use any soap 


-nothing but water, 
with Pearline. 

with it. If what we claim is true, that 


Pearline is 

soap doesn’t 
any work. 


|AI 

0 




better than soap, the 
have a chance to do 
It’s only in the way. 
Besides, some soaps might cause 
trouble — and you’d lay it to 
Pearline. You’ll never get Pearl- 
ine’s very best work till you use it just 
as directed on the package. Then 
you’ll have the easiest, quickest, most 


economical way of washing and cleaning. 


477 




PROVIDENT LIFE AND TRUST CO. 

OF PHILADELPHIA. 

Attention is directed to the new Instalment-Annuity Policy of the Provident, 
which provides a fixed income for twenty years, and for the continuance of the 
income to the widow for the balance of her life, if she should survive the instal- 
ment period of twenty years. 

In everything which makes Life Insurance perfectly safe and moderate in cost, and 
in liberality to policy-holders, the Provident is unsurpassed. 


For Children While Cutting Their Teeih. 


Hu om and weii-Trind Remedy, 

FOR OVER FIFTY YEARS. 

MRS. WINSLOW’S SOOTHING SYRUP 

has been used for over FIFTY YEARS by MILLIONS of MOTHERS for their CHILDREN WHILE TEETH- 
ING, with PERFECT SUCCESS. IT SOOTHES THE CHILD, SOFTENS the GUMS, ALLAYS all PAIN, 
CURES WIND COLIC, and is the best remedy for DIARRHtEA. Sold by Druggists in every part of the 
world. Be sure and ask for Mrs. Winslow’s Sootliing' Syrup, and take no other kind. 

TWENTY-FIVE CENTS A BOTTLE. 

— * 

Vol. LV1.—48 



754 


CURRENT NOTES. 


Russians during the Turkish War.— I was struck with the utter ab- 
sence of enthusiasm and the dislike to the war. In the canteen tent I fre- 
quently heard officers of the guard, who had not yet been under fire, making 
qse of such expressions as, “ Ah ! if I were only lucky enough to be back in 
St. Petersburg!” or, “I’d give somebody a good round sum to give me a slight 
flesh-wound,” etc. The wounded in the hospital frequently spoke in indignant 
terms of the officers, which, as a rule, is certainly not the habit of the Russian 
soldier. — Experiences of a Prussian Officer. 

An Anecdote of Bonaparte. — Count de P had been raised by Bona- 

parte to honors and dignities, but for some unaccountable reason he betrayed 
the confidence which his patron had reposed in him. When Bonaparte became 
cognizant of the man’s treachery, he ordered him to be arrested. He was to 
have been tried the following day, and in all probability he would have been 

condemned, as his guilt was fully established. In the mean time Mme. de P 

solicited and obtained an audience of the Emperor. 

“I am very sorry for your sake, madame,” he said, “that your husband 
should be mixed up in an affair which places his ingratitude in so glaring a 
light.” 

“Perhaps he is not so guilty as your majesty supposes,” said the countess. 

“ Do you know your husband’s signature?” inquired the Emperor, taking 
a letter out of his pocket and handing it to her. 

Mme. de P rapidly perused the letter, recognized the handwriting, and 

fell into a swoon. When she came around, Bonaparte put the letter into her 
hands, saying, — 

“ Take it. This is the only legal evidence that exists against your husband. 
There is a lighted fire behind you.” 

The countess quickly snatched up the important document and threw it 
into the flames. P ’s life was saved ; but as for his honor, not all the in- 

fluence of a generous Emperor could avail to restore it. — Tribuna . 

A Madagascar Sedan-Chair. — Four men at a time carry the passenger, 
always keeping step. The men on the left side support the pole on the right 
shoulders, holding it with their right hands ; those on the right side have their 
heads between the poles, the right-hand pole resting on their right shoulders, 
while with their left hands they catch hold of their companions’ right wrists, 
and so steady each other. 

Every half-minute, without slackening their pace, they throw the filanzana 
onto the shoulders of four others, who, in anticipation, have been running on 
ahead so that there should be no pause. They were a bright and cheery set of 
people, never ceasing to laugh and chatter the whole day, and were like a lot 
of big children out for a game of ball, — the unfortunate passenger being the 
ball. The sailor’s description of his camel-ride over the Bayuda desert — that 
the beast played cup-and-ball with him the whole way, and only missed him 
twice — would have been equally suitable to this mode of travelling. 

The bearers are of a higher class and generally younger than the baggage 
porters, and are specially trained to keep up a fast rate of travelling day by 
day. The latter have, as a ru-le, enormous bumps on their shoulders, which I 
have read are hereditary, but my own impression is that their growth on each 
individual is the result of the constant friction of the long bamboos on which 
they swing their loads. — Zelie Colville: Round the Black Man's Garden. 


CURRENT NOTES. 


755 


Buffalo lithia water 

Springs Nos. 1 and 2. 

Nature’s Anti = Dyspeptic and Digestive Water. 

Dr. F. R. Gregory, of Stovall , N. C. y referring to Spring No. /, reports the 


following case: 

“Mr. W. H. Gregory, a sufferer from Chronic Dyspepsia, Chronic Liver Dise 

Diarrhoea, with Kidney complications, 


Disease, almost resulting 
in Granular Degeneration, Chronic Diarrhoea, with kidney complications, fits of Renal Colic, 
passages of Calculi, and all the worst and most distressing forms of Gastro-lntestlnal Disorders, 
after having exhausted the catalogue of dietetics and the Materia Medica and Therapeutics, under 
the advice and treatment of a number of the most skillful and experienced physicians, without 
benefit, and having meanwhile declined from a normal weight of two hundred and twenty to one 
hundred and six pounds, has been completely restored to vigorous health by a visit of three months 
to the Buffalo Lithia Springs and the free use of the water of Spring No. l, to the exclusion of all 
other remedies, gaining while at tlie Spring seventy-two pounds in weight, and in six months 
thereafter forty-two pounds additional. The transition from a state of cadaveric emaciation to 
new life of robust health and strength in so short a time seems little short of miraculous.” 

F. J. Gregory, M. D., Keysville , Virginia. 

“For eighteen months my wife, aged forty-one years, was a sufferer from a Gastro-Intestinal 
Catarrh, which resisted my best-directed efforts at relief. The taking of the smallest quantity of 
the most easily digested food on the stomach would produce an attack of nausea and vomiting, the 
severity of which is seldom witnessed, and when the stomach was free of food she would have attacks 
of Gastralgla of the most excruciating nature. She also suffered from habitual constipation, at 
times with hemorrhages from the bowels. I pursued the usual line of treatment, and called to my 
help two of the most skillful physicians in Southside, Virginia, who supplemented my treatment 
with some of the newer drugs, but with no benefit, and so her condition went on from bad to worse 
until death seemed almost imminent from inanition. I then put her on a milk diet, with a glass of 
RnVCAI V miTA WATIL'P ever y hour or so during the day, and after the use of the 
DUrr/UJU U llliri llrULK first bottle improvement was marked, and before a case 
had. been used her cure was complete. It has been nearly two years since, and there has been 
only one slight recurrence, which was a few days since, and it readily disappeared on the use of the 
water for a few days.” 

This Water is for sale by druggists generally, or in cases of one dozen half-gallon bottles 85.00 f.o.b. at 
the Springs. Descriptive pamphlets sent to any address. 

THOMAS F. GOODE, Proprietor, Buffalo Lithia Springs, Va. 



Instantly Restores Gray Hair and 
Bleached Hair. 

Leaves it clean, soft, and glossy, and no one dreams that 
you color it. Absolutely harmless, odorless, and lasting. 
Baths do not affect it. Does not prevent curling or crimping. 
Send sample of hair to be colored free. 

COLORS. 

No. 1. Black. No. 4. Chestnut. No. 6. Gold Blond. 

No. 2. Dark Brown. No. 5. Light Chestnut. No. 7. Ash Blond. 
No. 3. Medium Brown. I»rice, $1.50 and $3*00. 


A free sample bottle of the finest rouge, “ Imperial Venus Tint,” will be sent on receipt of 2-cent stamp. 


Imperial Chemical Manufacturing Co., 292 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK. 

In PHILADELPHIA: Geo. B. Evans, 1106 Chestnut Street. 


Consumption Cured. — An old physician, retired from practice, had placed 
in his hands by an East India missionary the formula of a simple vegetable 
remedy for the speedy and permanent cure of Consumption, Bronchitis, Catarrh, 
Asthma, and all throat and lung affections, also a positive and radical cure 
for nervous debility and all nervous complaints. Having tested its wonderful 
curative powers in thousands of cases, and desiring to relieve human suffering, 
I will send free of charge to all who wish it, this recipe, in German, French, or 
English, with full directions for preparing and using. Sent by mail, by ad- 
dressing, with stamp, naming this paper, W. A. Noyes, 820 Powers’ Block, 
Rochester, New York. 


756 


CURRENT NOTES. 


Within One of It. — One day the Chodja prayed aloud that God would 
send him a thousand piastres. “ A full thousand ! I could not take less !” said 
he, in concluding his prayer. A rich man who had heard the Chodja praying 
thought he would try his consistency, and next day placed a bag containing 
nine hundred and ninety-nine piastres in his way. The Chodja found the bag 
and counted the money, but as he was turning to carry it home the tempter 
stepped from behind a wall and cried, “ Yesterday, in your prayer, you said you 
could not take less than a thousand piastres, and I wished to show you your in- 
consistency. Leave that money : it is mine.” “ Oh, no !” said the Chodja : 
“ this money God sent me in answer to my prayer, and I shall take it home, 
trusting that He who sent me nine hundred and ninety-nine piastres will some 
time surely send me the one outstanding piastre. There is no inconsistency, 
but plenty of faith, in me.” And he walked away, well satisfied, carrying the 
bag . — Good Words. 


Ibsen’s Table. — The papers on the table were all most neatly tied up into 
little bundles, the manuscripts fastened with elastic bands ; everything was in 
its place ; for Ibsen has a most remarkable love of order and neatness. He is 
faddy almost to the point of old-maidism, and cannot bear disorder. Every- 
thing he does is done slowly and neatly, and he is always punctual to a second. 
He writes a clear, round hand, the very essence of copy-book work. He talks 
very quietly and deliberately, and walks and moves slowly. 

He is never in a hurry. This is particularly so with his work. It takes 
him at least two years to write a play, for he writes and rewrites so often that 
by the time it is finished not a line of the original remains, and very often the 
entire plot has been changed. Indeed, so particular is he about his manu- 
scripts that he has many a time destroyed the entire work of many months 
because it has not given him satisfaction. He is very secretive about his 
work, and no one ever knows what he is doing until the last sheet is in the 
printer’s hands. 

He is very painstaking, and in everything except his extraordinarily ad- 
vanced ideas has far more of the calmness and precision of a writer of the 
eighteenth than the nineteenth century. He never seems to be influenced by 
the bustle around him or the general rush of life. He notes the turmoil of 
existence in others, and comments upon it, but it does not in any way influence 
his own individual life. 

Casting our eyes around, we noticed that by the side of the inkpot on the 
table on which so many remarkable books have been written there stood a little 
tray, and on the tray one of those small carved wooden bears so common in 
Switzerland. Beside it was a little black devil for holding a match, and two or 
three little cats and rabbits in copper, one of the former of which was playing 
a violin. 

“ What are these funny little things?” we queried. 

“ I never write a single line of any of my dramas without having that tray 
and its occupants before me on the table. I could not write without them. It 
may seem strange — perhaps it is ; but I cannot write without them,” he repeated ; 
“ but why I use them is my own secret.” And he laughed quietly. Are these 
little toys, with their strange fascination, the origin of those much-discussed 
dolls in “The Master-Builder”? Who can tell? They are Ibsen’s secret. — 
Temple Bar. 


CURRENT NOTES. 


757 



f SPAR&UMG \VE 

Y CONCENTRATED UQUlR 


CONCENTRATED UQUIR 

MSl 


ANHtUSER- 


UnoH IHTOWC^t; 


One Bottle Every Day 

means from 2 to 5 pounds a week gained in healthy flesh. 

^HEUSER BUSc^fQ 


TRADE MARK. 

— the food-drink — is crushed from the best malt and hops. 
A rousing tonic. To the nursing mother it is nourishment 
for herself and babe. To consumptives and sufferers from 
wasting diseases, to all who are thin and sickly, it means 
more flesh and greater strength. 

At all druggists' and grocers'. 

Prepared by Anheuser-Busch Brewing Ass’n, St. Louis, U. S. A. 

FINAL TRIUMPH.— The Supreme Court of Washington, D. C. 
has awarded to the Anheuser-Busch Brewing Ass’n. the disputed 
Highest Score of Award with Medal and Diploma of the World’s 
Columbian Exposition, Chicago, 1893. 



CAMPHORATED 

SAPONACEOUS 

DENTIFRICE 

FOR THE 

TEETH. 


THE BEST TOILET LUXURY AS A DENTIFRICE IN 
THE WORLD. 

TO CLEANSE AND WHITEN THE TEETH, 

TO REMOVE TARTAR FROM THE TEETH, 

TO SWEETEN THE BREATH AND PRESERVE THE 
TEETH, 

TO MAKE THE GUMS HARD AND HEALTHY, 


USE BROWN’S CAMPHORATED SAPONACEOUS DENTIFRICE. 


Price, Twenty=Five Cents a Jar. For Sale by all Druggists. 



Crystal Pepsin Tablets are nature’s only cure for dyspepsia and indigestion. 
They prevent dulness after eating, and induce a refreshed feeling of renewed 
energy. Delivered by mail to any post-office in the United States on receipt 
of fifty cents in stamps. Samples mailed free. Address the Carl L. Jensen 
Company, 400 N. Third Street, Philadelphia, Pa. For sale at all druggists’. 

A Good Child is usually healthy, and both conditions are developed by 
the use of proper food. The Gail Borden Eagle Brand Condensed Milk is the 
best infants’ food ; so easily prepared that improper feeding is inexcusable and 
unnecessary. 


758 


CURRENT NOTES. 


The English Chaplain. — These commissioned chaplains are divided 
into four classes, according to their seniority, ranking respectively as colonels, 
lieutenant-colonels, majors, and captains, and headed by a chaplain-general, — 
at present Dr. Edghill, — who is at the War Office. 

The pay of a military chaplain is not great, ranging from ten shillings to 
one pound two shillings and sixpence a day, and he retires on pension when he 
has completed twenty years’ service, except under special circumstances, when 
the term of service may be prolonged. He is not entitled to special fees for 
the performance of any duty whatever for officers and men, such as furnishing 
copies of certificates of baptism, marriage, or burial. 

His duties embrace the conduct of the parade and voluntary services in the 
garrison church on Sunday morning and evening respectively, the regular visit- 
ing of the sick in hospital and of the soldiers’ families in the married quarters, 
and the weekly religious instruction of the children and drummer-boys. These, 
however, are the barest lines of his duty. There are a thousand other ways 
by which, if a chaplain would do his work effectively, he must come into 
sympathetic touch with the men. 

No rules or regulations can make a chaplain really efficient if it be not 
born in him from the first. There are special instincts, intuitions, and natural 
powers which are essential, and which if he have them not he had better re- 
linquish the work at once and forever. — Chambers's Journal. 

Accuracy. — “Mr. Pennersby,” said the city editor to the reporter, “ did 
you write this sentence? — ‘The Congressman stood speechless with amaze- 
ment.’ ” 

“ Yes. Is there anything wrong with it ?” 

“ Well, I don’t know. Unless you are very sure of your facts, we’d better 
change it to ‘ The Congressman was amazed.’ ” — Washington Star. 

Good Use of a Flag. — In Havana there was one evening a great row in 
the streets, and a man was killed. Every one ran away except an Englishman, 
who did not see why he should run off, but stopped to do what he could for the 
wounded man. The city was then, as it often was, under martial law, and in a 
few minutes a party of soldiers came up and walked the Englishman off. He 
was tried then and there by a sort of drum-head court-martial, and condemned 
to be shot the next morning at eight o’clock. 

He managed to get the news conveyed to the English consul, and at seven 
forty-five o’clock next morning the consul appeared in his coach-and-four, 
uniform, cocked hat, and sword, all his orders on, etc. The shooting-party 
were drawn out, and the prisoner was there, too. The consul walked up to the 
officer commanding the party and demanded the life of his countryman. 

“ Very sorry,” said the officer, “ but I must carry out my orders.” And he 
showed the warrant signed by the governor. 

“ Well,” said the consul, “at least you will allow me to shake hands with 
him before he dies?” 

“ I can’t refuse that,” was the reply. On which the consul stepped up to 
the Englishman, put his hand into his breast-coat pocket, drew out a union jack, 
unfolded it, threw it over the man, and then said, “ There, now, fire if you dare !” 
The lieutenant was staggered, the matter was referred to the governor, and the 
Englishman was saved. — The Spectator. 


The December Number 


LIPPINCOTT’S 

MAGAZINE, 

READY NOVEMBER 22, 

Will contain a Complete Novel entitled 


The Old SilverTrail 

BY 

MARY E. STICKNEY, 


Author of “A Desert Claim,” “A Pacific Encounter,” “Circumstantial 
Evidence,” etc. 


And the Usual Variety of Stories, Essays, 
Poems, etc. 


For List of Complete Novels contained in Former Numbers, see Next Page. 


THE COMPLETE NOVELS 


WHICH HAVE ALREADY APPEARED IN 

LIPPINOOTT’S MAGAZINE, 


AND WHICH ARE ALWAYS OBTAINABLE , ARE s 


No. 

335. In Sight of the Goddess. Harriet Riddle Davis 
334. My Strange Patient . . . William T. Nichols 

333. A Case in Equity Francis Lynde 

332. Little Lady Lee . . . Mrs. H. Lovett Cameron 
331. A Social Highwayman. Elizabeth Philips Train 
330. The Battle of Salamanca. Benito Perez Galdos 
329. The Lady of Las Cruces . . . Christian lteid 
328.' Alain of Halfdene . . . Anna Robeson Brown 
327. A Tame Surrender . . Captain Charles King 
326. The Chapel of Ease . . . Harriet Riddle Davis 

325. The Waifs of Fighting Rocks. 

Charles Mcllvaine 

324. Mrs. Hallam’s Companion. 

Mrs. Mary J. Holmes 

323. Dora’s Defiance Lady Lindsay 

322. A Question of Courage . . . Francis Lynde 

321. Captain Molly Mary A. Denison 

320. Sweetheart Manette . . . Maurice Thompson 

319. Captain Close Captain Charles King 

318. The Wonder-Witch .... M. G. McClelland 
317. A Professional Beauty. Elizabeth Phipps Train 
316. The Flying Halcyon . . Richard Henry Savage 

315. A Desert Claim Mary E. Stickney 

314. The Picture of Las Cruces . . Christian Reid 

313. The Colonel Harry Willard French 

312. Sergeant Croesus .... Captain Charles King 
311. An Unsatisfactory Lover .... The Duchess 
310. The Hepburn Line . . . Mrs. Mary J. Holmes 
309. A Bachelor’s Bridal. . . . II. Lovett Cameron 
308. In the Midst of Alarms .... Robert Barr 
307. The Troublesome Lady . Patience Stapleton 
306. The Translation of a Savage. Gilbert Parker 

305. Mrs. Romney Rosa Noucheue Carey 

304. Columbus in Love . . George Alfred Townsend 
303. Waring’s Peril . . . Capt. Charles King, II.S.A. 

302. The First Flight Julien Gordon 

301. A Pacific Encounter . . . Mary E. Stickney 

300. Pearce Amerson’s Will. 

Richard Malcolm Johnston 

299. More than Kin Marion Harland 

298. The Kiss of Gold Kate Jordan 

297. The Doomswoman Gertrude Atherton 

296. The Martlet Seal. . . . Jeannette H. Walworth 

295. White Heron M. G. McClelland 

294. John Gray (A Kentucky Tale of the Olden Time). 

James Lane Allen 

293. The Golden Fleece .... Julian Hawthorne 
292. But Men Must Work . Rosa Nouchette Carey 
291. A Soldier’s Secret . Capt. Charles King, U.S.A. 

290. Roy the Royalist . William Westall 

289. The Passing of Major Kilgore. 

Young E. Allison 

288. A Fair Blockade-Breaker . . T. C. De Leon 
r ;87. The Duke and the Commoner. 

Mrs. Poultney Bigelow 

286. Lady Patty The Duchess 

285. Carlotta’s Intended . . Ruth McEnery Stuart 
284. A Daughter’s Heart . Mrs. H. Lovett Cameron 
183. A Rose of a Hundred Leaves. Amelia E. Ban- 


No. 

282. Gold of Pleasure . . . George Parsons Lathrop 

281. Vampires Julien Gordon 

280. Maiden’s Choosing. . . Mrs. Ellen Olney Kirk 
279. The Sound of a Voice . . Frederick S. Cozzens 

278. A Wave of Life Clyde Fitch 

277. The Light that Failed . . Rudyard Kipling 
276. An Army Portia . . Capt. Charles King, U.S.A. 
275. A Laggard in Love . Jeanie Gwynne Bettany 
274. A Marriage at Sea W. Clark Russell 

273. The Mark of the Beast. 

Katharine Pearson Woods 

272. What Gold Cannot Buy . . Mrs. Alexander 
271. The Picture of Dorian Gray . . Oscar Wilde 
270. Circumstantial Evidence . Mary E. Sticknej 
269. A Sappho of Green Springs . . . Bret Harte 

268. A Cast for Fortune Christian Reid 

267. Two Soldiers .... Capt. Charles King, U.S.A. 
266. The Sign of the Four .... A Conan Doyle 
265. Millicent and Rosalind . . Julian Hawthorne 

264. All He Knew John Ilabberton 

263. A Belated Revenge. Dr. Robt. Montgomery Bird 

262. Creole and Puritan T. C. De Leon 

261. Solarion Edgar Fawcett 

260. An Invention of the Enemy. W. H. Babcock 
259. Ten Minutes to Twelve . M. G. McClelland 
258. A Dream Of Conquest . . General Lloyd Brice 
257. A Chain of Errors .... Mrs. E. W. Latimer 
256. The Witness of the Sun . . . Amelie Rives 

255. Bella-Demonia Selina Dolaro 

254. A Transaction in Hearts .... Edgar Saltus 

253. Hale- Weston M. Elliot Seawell 

251. Earthlings Grace King 

250. Queen of Spades, and Autobiography. E. P. Roe 
249. Herod and Mariamne. 

A Tragedy . . Amelie Rives 

248. Mammon Maude Howe 

247. The Yellow Snake Wm. Henry Bishop 

246. Beautiful Mrs. Thorndyke. 

Mrs. Poultney Bigelow 

245. The Old Adam H. H. Boyesen 

244. The Quick or the Dead?. . . Amelie Rives 
243. Honored in the Breach . . . Julia Magruder 
242. The Spell of Home. 

After the German of E. Werner. Mrs. A. L. Wister 
241. Check and Counter-Check. 

Brander Matthews and George H. Jessop 
239. The Terra-Cotta Bust . . Virginia W. Johnson 
238. Apple Seed and Brier Thorn. Louise Stockton 
237. The Red Mountain Mines. Lew Vanderpoole 

236. A Land Of Love Sidney Luska 

235. At Anchor Julia Magruder 

234. The Whistling Buoy .... Charles Barnard 

232. Douglas Duane Edgar Fawcett 

231. Kenyon’s Wife Lucy C. Lillie 

230. A Self-Made Man M. G. McClelland 

229. Sinfire Julian Hawthorne 

228. Miss Defarge .... Frances Hodgson Burnett 
227. Brueton’g Bayou John Habberton 


SINGLE NUMBERS, 25 CENTS. $3.00 PER YEAR 


LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 





HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 


HOLIDAY BOOKS. 

Mrs. Jameson’s Works on Art. 

Sacred and Legendary Art, 2 vols. 

Legends of the Monastic Orders. 

Legends of the Madonna. 

Memoirs of the Early Italian Painters. 

Edited by Miss Estelle M. Hurll, with a memoir 
and portrait of Mrs. Jameson. 5 vols., octavo, bound 
in simple but artistic style. Each volume contains 
nearly 100 illustrations, selected from the works of 
great masters. $3.00 a volume. 

The Works of John Burroughs. 

New Riverside Edition. With several poi traits of 
Burroughs and engraved title pages. Printed from 
entirely new type, on paper of the best quality, and 
bound in a style combining simplicity and elegance. 
In 9 vols., i6mo, $13.50 net, the set. (Sold only in 
sets . ) 

Standish of Standish. 

A beautiful Holiday Edition of this popular historical 
novel by Mrs. Jane G. Austin, author of “ A Name- 
less Nobleman,” etc. With 20 exquisite full-page 
photogravure illustrations by Frank T. Merrill. 
2 vols., i2mo, tastefully bound, $5.00. 

The Song of Hiawatha. 

A Popular Holiday Edition of Longfellow’s unique 
poem, with 22 full-page illustrations by Frederic 
Remington. Crown 8vo, $2.00. 

The Courtship of Miles Standish. 


POETRY. 

Last Poems of James Russell Lowell. 

With a fine New Portrait and rubricated title and 
initials. Printed in artistic style, and exquisitely 
bound in polished buckram. l2mo, $1.25. 

Robert Browning. 

Complete Poetic and Dramatic Works. New Cam- 
bridge Edition. A wonderful piece of bookmaking, 
printed from clear type, on opaque paper, and attrac- 
tively bound. With Biographical Sketch, Notes, 
Indexes, a fine new portrait and vignette of Asolo. 
Crown 8vo, gilt top, $3.00; half calf, gilt top, $5.00; 
tree calf, or full levant, $7.00. 

Oliver Wendell Holmes. 

Complete Poetical Works. Ca?nbridge Edition. Uni- 
form with the Cambridge Editions of Longfellow 
and Whittier. With Biographical Sketch, Notes, 
Indexes, a Steel Portrait, and engraved title. Crown 
8vo, gilt top, $2.00; half calf, gilt top, $3.50; tree 
calf, or full levant, $5.50. 

A Victorian Anthology. 

Selections illustrating the Editor’s critical review of 
British poetry in the reign of Victoria [“ Victorian 
Poets”]. Selected and edited by E. C. Stedman. 
With brief biographies of the authors quoted, a fine 
frontispiece portrait of Queen Victoria, and a vignette 
of the Poets’ comer in Westminster Abbey. Large 
crown 8 vo, bound in attractive library style, $2.50; 
full gilt, $3.00. 


A beautiful Popular Holiday Edition of Longfel- 
low’s famous Pilgrim poem. With many illustra- 
tions by George H. Boughton, F. T. Merrill, 
and others. Crown 8vo, $1.50. 

The Madonna of the Tubs. 

New Popular Edition of one of Miss Phelps’s most 
striking and touching stories. With illustrations. 
Uniform with Mrs. Wiggin’s “ The Birds’ Christmas 
Carol.” 75 cents. 

BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 

Mr. Rabbit at Home. 

A sequel to “ Little Mr. Thimblefinger and His 
Queer Country.” By Joel Chandler Harris. 
With 25 illustrations by Oliver Herford. Square 
8vo, bound in very attractive style, $2.00. 

Stories and Poems for Children. 

By Celia Thaxter, author of “ Among the Isles of 
Shoals,” etc. Edited by Sarah ‘Orne Jewett. 
With a frontispiece illustration. 1 vol., i2mo, $1.50. 

Little Miss Phoebe Gay. 

By Helen Dawes Brown, author of “The Petrie 
Estate,” etc. With colored cover design and other 
illustrations. Square i6mo, $1.00. 

The Nimble Dollar, with Other Stories. 

By Charles Miner Thompson. With a frontis- 
piece illustration. 1 vol., i6mo, $1.00. 


FICTION. 

A Singular Life. 

By Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, author of “The 
Gates Ajar,” etc. i6mo, $1.25. 

A story of remarkable power and significance, depicting the 
heroic career of a singularly conscientious minister among fisher- 
men, and the sublime success he achieved. 

A Gentleman Vagabond, and Some 
Others. 

By F. Hopkinson Smith, author of “ Colonel Carter 
of Cartersville,” “ A Day at Laguerre’s,” etc. $1.25. 

A book of short stories by a man who always has exceptionally 
interesting stories to tell and who tells them wonderfully well. 

The Life of Nancy. 

By Sarah Ornf. Jewett, author of “ Deephaven,” 
“A Native of Winby,” etc. i6mo, $1.25. 

A book of short stories as good as Miss Jewett has ever writ- 
ten, and who has written better? 

The Village Watch-Tower. 

By Mrs. Wiggin, author of “The Birds’ Christmas 
Carol,” etc. i6mo, $1.00. 

Several short stories containing admirable studies of New Eng- 
land village life — bright, witty, extremely readable. 

The Wise Woman. 

By Mrs. Burnham, author of “ Sweet Clover,” “ Miss 
Bagg’s Secretary,” etc. l6mo, $1.25. 

The aim of this charming story is to do away with artificial 
conventionalities and promote a more sincere social life. 



Sold by all Booksellers. Sent , post-paid , by 


■Houghton, Mifflin & 0o., Boston. 

1 



LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


SCRIBNER’S 

Magazine 

For NOVEMBER 


A MOST ATTRACTIVE NUMBER, CONTAINING MANY 
ARTICLES OF SPECIAL TIMELINESS 
AND INTEREST. 


Some Thanksgiving-Time Fan- 
cies 

A timely and unusually attractive feature. 
Ten full-page illustrations by Howard Pyle, 
B. West Clinedinst, J. M. Gleeson, W. R. 
Leigh, Henry McCarter, with title-page by 
G. W. Maynard. 

landmarks of Manhattan 

Showing the changes in many portions of 
New York City, with a forecast of the splen- 
did group of buildings to be erected on Morn- 
ingside Heights. Beautifully illustrated. 

* 

Frederick MacMonnies 

The first adequate sketch of the American 
sculptor, whose World’s Fair Fountain was 
the admiration of all. By Will H. Low. 
Illustrated. 

“The Conduct of Fife” 

The final paper in Robert Grant’s series on 
“ The Art of Living.” 


The Plumed Knight and His 
Joust 

President Andrews, in his “ History of the 
Last Quarter Century,” gives a most dramatic 
presentation of the chief events of the years 
of Blaine’s greatest popularity, including the 
famous Mulligan Letters. As a part o' the 
record of this time the narrative includes a 
thrilling description of the rescue of Greely. 

¥ 

Prof. Von Helmholtz 

By C. Riborg Man. With Portrait. 

Logic of Mental Telegraphy 

A valuable article on hypnotism by Professor 
Jastrow, of the University of Wisconsin. 

The Old Age of Cupid 

A Poem. With full-page illustrations by Will 
H. Low. 


TPHE CHRISTMAS SCRIBNER will be a superb number, with 
many very novel and artistic features. Special Cover. Ready 
November 25. 

Subscription, $3.00 a year, 25 cents a number. 


CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS, Publishers, 

I53-I57 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK. 


2 



LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


SCRIBNER’S 

Magazine 

Announcements for 1896. 



J. M. BARRIE. 

SCRIBNER’S MAGAZINE has been fortunate in securing as its 
serial for 1896, the novel upon which Mr. Barrie has been working ever 
since the publication of “THE LITTLE MINISTER,” and which will 
be published under the title of ^ SENTIMENTAL TOMMY#” 

Readers may look confidently for a work of greater genius and 
power than anything the author has yet done. It will begin in the 
January number and continue throughout the year, and illustrated by 
William Hatherell. 


3 



LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


A NEW AND SUPERB EDITION OF 

Robert Louis Stevenson’s Works 

From new plates made by De Vinne. Printed on fine rough- 
edged water=marked paper and sumptuously bound. 

It has been the purpose of the publishers to give to the admirers of Mr. Stevenson 
an edition of his works in a form thoroughly worthy of his great masterpieces. Noth- 
ing has been left undone to make the set in every way attractive. 

The Novels and Tales will occupy eleven volumes, the Travels and Essays four, 
and the Poems will be complete in a single volume, or sixteen volumes in all. 

A photogravure or etched frontispiece will be affixed to each volume. 

Sold only by subscription, and no order will be taken except for the entire set. 

For further particulars, address the publishers. 

Charles Scribner’s Sons. 


Shooting Pictures. 

A SERIES OF TWELVE FAC-SIMILE WATER-COLORS 

By A. B. FROST. 

Mr. Frost has long been known to all enthusiasts as the 
one artist able to portray hunting scenes with the spirit and 
feeling of the true sportsman. 

For many years he has been making sketches and studies 
with the idea of preparing a series of representative SHOOT- 
ING PICTURES, which will be recognized as accurate and 
real in every detail. 

Sold only by subscription. For circu- 
lars, etc., address the publishers. 

Charles Scribner’s Sons, 

NEW YORK. 



ym 

'■ k -A.r - t l , 



4 



lippjncotts magazine ad vert user. 


Dodd, Mead Si Company’s New Books 

MISS GRACE OF ALL SOULS 

By William Edwards Tirebuck, author of “ St. Margaret,” “ Dome,” “ Sweetheart Gwen,” etc. $1.25. 

Gallienne wi^whom hewasdo^ll'^l^' Liverpool school, which included Hall Caine, William Watson, and Richard Le 

vivid picture 'of mining life in I *? e ^ d °? C n ° , bette / J w ,? rk tban is contained in the present novel, which presents a 

How Miss Grace acts^is a solvent ihrnmxH & W , ltb J‘ uth,ess fidelity the conflict which is waging between master and man. 

as well the love problem which Mr. Tirebuck handles S^at'S, and' taSy of Jmpose^ “ Pa " ° f ‘ h ' S ° da ' Pr ° bkm 


Bernicia 

By Amelia E. Barr, author of “ The Bow of Orange 
Ribbon,” “Friend Olivia,” etc. #1.25. 

“Bernicia” treats of the period of George II., and the scene 
opens just after the dispersion of the Jacobites at Culloden. 
George Whitefield, the great Methodist revivalist, plays a promi- 
nent part in the story. Bernicia is a delightful little rebel of most 
winning demeanor, whose beauty and coquetry cast a glamour over 
us on every page of the story. 


Lilith 

A Romance. By George Macdonald, author of 
“ Robert Falconer,” “ Phantastes,” etc. #1.25. 

“ Dr. Macdonald has given us in his latest book a wonderfully 
thrilling romance, teeming with fascinating passages of vivid and 
picturesque description, and full of spiritual suggestiveness. On 
every page there is the stamp of this writer’s unmistakable 
genius.” 


SLAIN BY THE DOONES 

By R. D. Blackmore, author of “ Lorna Doone,” “ Perlycross,” etc. $1.25. 

An exciting episode in the history of the famous Doone outlaws, in which the famous character John Kidd reappears. Three 
hitherto unpublished stones in book form are added. 

THE DAYS OF AULD LANG SYNE 

Second Series of Drumtochty Sketches. By Ian Maclaren, author of “ Beside the Bonnie Briar Bush.” $1.25. 

The warm reception which has been accorded to Ian Maclaren’s first volume is a sufficient introduction to this succeeding book 
which is intended to supplement and complete the series. * 


By Ian Maclaren. 


A DOCTOR OF THE OLD SCHOOL 

Profusely illustrated with pen and ink drawings by Fred. C. Gordon. 


$2.00. 


A beautiful holiday edition of these chapters from the “ Bonnie Briar Bush,” which contains the story of Doctor MacLure with 
illustrations from drawings made at “ Drumtochty” by the artist. 


The Way of a Maid 

By Katharine Tynan Hinkson, author of “ Cuckoo 
Songs,” “ A Cluster of Nuts,” etc. $1.25. 

The spell of the land of mist and mountain lies on this delight- 
ful story of Irish life and character. In “A Cluster of Nuts,” 

Mrs. Hinkson gave us some beautiful vignettes of Irish life, and 
in this, her first novel, she has again brought us into touch with 
the bewitching surroundings of life in Erin’s Isle, where laughter 
and tears so often mingle together. 

The Romance of Prince Eugene 

An Idyll under Napoleon I. By Albert Pulitzer. 

Translated from the French by Mrs. B. M. Sherman. 

With 12 full-page photogravures. 2 vols., 8vo, gilt 
top, in a box, $5.00. Large-paper edition of 150 
numbered copies, with prints on Japan paper and with 
mezzotint portraits of Prince Eugene and the Princess 
Augusta, by S. Arlent Edwards. Signed proofs not in 
ordinary edition. Very elaborately bound, $12.00, net. 

THE GURNEYS 

By the author of “ Memorials of a Quiet Life,” “ The Story of Two Noble Lives,” etc. 2 vols. $6.00, net. 

The Gurneys of Earlham were a Quaker family who played a more conspicuous part than any other set of brothers and sisters in 
the religious and philanthropic life of England during the first half of the nineteenth century. One of them, Elizabeth Fry, is familiar 
to us. The work is composed for the most part from an immense mass of correspondence, and from private journals which reveal the 
details of their daily life, especially their spiritual life. It contains about sixty illustrations. 


Rip Van Winkle 

By Joseph Jefferson. Being the text of the play by 
this famous American actor, now for the first time 
published. Illustrated with a new portrait of Mr. 
Jefferson, and with drawings from scenes in the play, 
by Richard Creifelds, and also with five illustrations 
from designs by Joseph Jefferson. Cloth, octavo, 
handsomely printed and bound. 

I. Large-paper edition, limited to one hundred copies, 
on Japan paper, with mezzotint engraving of the por- 
trait, by S. Arlent Edwards, printed in color and 
signed by the engraver and Mr. Jefferson. In a 
special binding, numbered and signed by Joseph 
Jefferson. $25.00, net. 

II. An edition of 150 copies, in all respects the same 
as the first, but without the signature and not in 
special binding. $10.00, net. 

III. Ordinary edition, bound in cloth. $5.00. 

OF EARLHAM 


Anecdotal Recollections of 
Notable People, etc. 

By Charles K. Tuckerman, First Minister Resident 
of the United States to Greece. 2 vols. $5-00. 

Charm and Courtesy in Letter= Writing 

By Frances Bennett Callaway. i6mo, cloth, gilt 
top. $1.00. 

Natural History in Anecdote 

Arranged and edited by Alfred H. Miles. 
cloth. $1.25. 


i2mo, 


Biographical Essays 

Being Memorial Sketches of Dean Stanley, Dean Alford, 
and others. By Augustus J. C. Hare. With illus- 
trations. $3.00. 

Wilmot’s Child 

By a famous London preacher. Uniform with “ The 
Little Huguenot.” i6mo, cloth, 75 cents. 

Humor, pathos, and an abundant charity distinguish this singu- 
lar little story. 


Dodd, Mead & Company, 149=151 Fifth Ave., New York 


LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


“A Weekly Feast to Nourish Hungry Minds.”— N. Y. Evangelist. 

Littell’s Living Age, 

A Weekly Magazine of 

Foreign Periodical Literature. 

Giving Yearly 3300 Double Column Octavo 
Pages (Making Four Large Volumes) of 
Matter Unequalled in Quality and Quantity. 

The Ablest Minds of the Age 

Contribute to make this Periodical 

Encyclopedic in Scope, Character, 

Completeness, Comprehensiveness. 

INDISPENSABLE 

TO EVERY READER OF INTELLIGENCE AND LITERARY TASTE. 

Every Intelligent Reader will find in 

THE LIVING AGE 

Food to Nourish, Stimulate, and Inspire Thought. 

The Ablest and Brightest Men and 
Women of the World have read and 
Commended it during more than half a Century. 



“ Exhaustive Reviews of recent publications, the latest results of Scientific Re= 
search, Biographical Sketches of eminent characters, Travel, Exploration, Literary 
Criticism, and every phase of Culture and Progress in Europe, Fiction and Choice 

Poetry — all these make up THE LIVING AGE.” — Evening Bulletin , Philadelphia. 


Trial Subscription. 

As a special inducement to any who may desire to make a trial subscription, we 
will send the weekly issues for the last six months of this year (July to December, 
inclusive) for $3.00 ; or, for $ 6.00 , we will send the numbers for the whole year 1895. 
The Living Age is published Weekly, at $8.00 a year, free of postage. Address 

LITTELL & CO., 31 Bedford Street, Boston. 

6 


LIPPINCOTTS MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


Macmillan & Co.’s New Books. 


NEW VOLUME OF THE “EX-LIBRIS" SERIES. 


BOOKBINDINGS. 


Old and New: Notes of a Book=Lover. 

By Brander Matthews. With numerous illustrations. Imperial 16mo, satin, cloth, gilt top, $3.00. 

010 aft* ^ ar ^ e P a P er - Edition de luxe. Printed throughout on Japanese vellum. Only one hundred copies printed. Price, 
$ 12 . 00 , not. 

*** d'Ids volume contains much interesting and new matter relating to bookbinding of the past and the present, book- 
binders, commercial bookbinding, picture-cover paper books, etc., and a chapter on the Grolier Club of New York. The 
book is profusely illustrated with very flue examples of ancient and modern bookbinding by “ Le Gascon,” Padeloup, De- 
rome, Trautz Bauzonnet, Bedford, William Matthews, Cobden-Sanderson, and many others; and it will also contain numer- 
ous fac-similes of the decorated covers of cloth and picture-cover paper books selected from recent American, English, and 
French publications. 


New Orleans : 

The Place and the People. By Grace King, author of “ Mon- 
sieur Motte,” “Jean Baptiste Le Moyne,” “Balcony Sto- 
ries,” etc. With numerous illustrations. 12mo, cloth. Just 
ready. 

The Letters of Edward Fitzgerald 
to Fanny Kemble. 

Collecte< and Edited, with Notes, by William Aldis Wright. 
12mo, cloth (Eversley Series), $1.50. 

Uniform with the above. 

Letters of Edward Fitzgerald. 2 vols., 12mo, $3.00. 


Inmates of my House and Garden. 

By Mrs. Brightwen. author of “ Wild Nature Won by Kind- 
ness.” Illustrated by Theo. Carreras. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. 

(New Volume by the late Walter Pater.) 

Miscellaneous Studies. 

A Series of Essays. By Walter Pater, late fellow of Brase- 
nose College. Prepared for the Press by Charles L. Shad- 
well, Fellow of Oriel College. 12mo, cloth, $1.75. ( Uniform 
with Walter Pater's other works.) 

*** Large paper. Only one hundred copies printed on John 

Dickinson & Co.’s hand-made paper. $3.00, net. 


JOHN LA FARGE’S LECTURES ON ART. 

Considerations on Painting. 

Lectures given at the Metropolitan Museum of New York. By John La Farge. Square 12mo, cloth, gilt top, $1.25. 


Oxford and Her Colleges. 

A View from the Radcliffc Library. By Goldwin Smith, D.C.L. 
With sixteen illustrations reproduced from photographs. 
Square 16mo, cloth, gilt top, $1.50. 

Dog Stories from “The Spectator.” 

Being Anecdotes of the Intelligence, Reasoning Power, Affec- 
tion, and Sympathy of Dogs, selected from the Corre- 
spondence Columns of “ The Spectator.” With an Intro- 
duction by J. St. Loe Strachey. 12mo, cloth, $1.75. 


The Function of Criticism 

At the Present Time. By Matthew Arnold. Reprinted from 
“ Essays in Criticism.” An Essay in Style. By Walter 
Pater. Reprinted from" Appreciations.” In one volume. 
18mo, cloth, 75 cents; paper, 25 cents. 

“The Flower of England’s Face.” 

Sketches of English Travel. By Julia C. R. Dorr, author 
of “ Friar Anselmo,” “ Afternoon Songs,” etc. 18mo, 
cloth, 75icents. 


A BOOK ABOUT FANS. 

The History of Fans and Fan-Painting. By M. A. Flory. With a Chapter on Fan Collecting. 

By Mary Cadwalader Jones. 

Illustrated with numerous reproductions of Antique and Modem Fans, taken from the Originals , and Photographs loaned by 
private owners ; also numerous head and tail pieces, and some illustrations in the text. 12mo, buckram, gilt top, $2.50. 

*** LARGE PAPER EDITION. Limited to one hundred and twenty-five copies, printed on hand-made paper, spe- 
cially manufactured for this edition by John Dickinson & Co., with the illustrations printed by Edward Bierstadt. 8vo, 
ornamental buckram, gilt top, $6.00, net. 

BANBURY CROSS SERIES OF CHILDREN’S FOLK=LORE 

AND OTHER STORIES. 


Edited by Grace Rhys. 16mo. Bound in green and red sateen, each 50 cents. 

Vol. I. Jack the Giant-killer and Beauty and the ~ 

Beast. Illustrated by R. Anning Bell 
II. The Sleeping Beauty, ajid Dick Whittington 
and his Cat. Illustrated by R. Anning Bell. 

III. The History of Cinderella; or, The Little Glass 
Slipper. Illustrated by R. Anning Bell. 

IV. The House that Jack Built, and Other Nur- 
sery Rhymes. Illustrated by Misses Violet 
and' Evelyn Holden. 


V. Little Red Riding Hood, and The History of 
Tom Thumb. Illustrated by Mrs. H. Isabel 
Adams. 


- j ~ ~ • 

Vol. VI. Puss in Boots, and Blue Beard. Illustrated by 
R. Heighway. 


VII. Banbury Cross, and Other Nursery Rhymes. 

Illustrated by Miss Alice B. Woodward. 

VIII. Fireside Stories. Illustrated by Miss A, M. 
Mitch 

IX. Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp. Illus- 
trated by Sidney H. Heath. 

X. Tom Hickathrift and Fairy Gifts. Illustrated 
bv H. Granville Fell. 

XI. Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves. Illustrated 
bv H. Granville Fell. 

XII. iEsop’s Fables. Illustrated by Charles Robinson. 


The set, 12 vols., in handsome satin-covered box, $6.50. . . . , . _ . 

*** This series is a revival in form of the old chap-books, and is produced in a very dainty and quaint style. Each 
story is carefully compared with the earliest sources, and when taken from foreign originals is, in many cases, retranslated. 

NEW STORY-BOOK BY MRS. MOLESWORTH. 

THE CARVED LIONS. 

By Mrs. Moi.eswortii, author of “Tell me a Story." “ My New Home." “ Mary," etc. Illustrated by Leslie Brooke. 12mo, 
cloth, $1.00. 

Macmillan & Co., 66 Fifth Avenue, New York. 


LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


THE 

American Historical Register 

AND 

MONTHLY GAZETTE OF THE PATRIOTIC-HEREDITARY SOCIETIES 

OF THE 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 

ILLUSTRATED. 


$3.00 A YEAR. 35 CENTS A NUMBER. 


The Historical Register Publishing Co., 

120 South Sixth Street, Philadelphia. 


FOR SALE BY ALL NEWSDEALERS. 


PLAYS 


Dialogues, Speakers, for School, 
Club and Parlor. Catalogue tree. 
T. S. Denison. Publisher, Chicago 111. 


Shorthand. 


Celebrated PEltNIN method. 
Awarded Medal and Diploma 
at World’s Fair. Simplest and best in the world. Trial 
lesson FREE. For books and lessons by MAIL, write 

H. M. PERNIN, Author, Detroit, Mich. 


“HELPFUL HINTS TO BOOK-LOVERS” 

will aid you in buying from your home dealer. 
Mailed on request by 

Q. D. Hurst, 1 14 Fifth Ave., New York. 


□JXRrLnjTJLrLTLiLriJi.njTJLriJLrLrLnrLriJLnjTriJTJijTrLp 


£ BOOKS 
AT 

LIBERAL 
DISCOUNTS 


When calling, please ask ^ 
for Mr. Grant. 

Whenever you need a book, 
address Mr. Grant. 


Before buying books write 
for quotations. An assortment 
of catalogues and special slips of books at reduced 
p prices, sent for 10-cent stamp. 

F. E. GRANT, Books, 

5 23 West 42d St., New York. : 

p Mention this advertisement and receive a discount. I 

uTJLTUTJTJTJLTlJTJlJLnJTJTJlJlJTJTJlJLriJLrLriJlJTrUlJT_H 


The New St. Louis. 

While it is under new management, with new editors and 
new contributors, it is still the oldest and most reputable 
publication of its kind in the West, this being the twenty- 
sixth year of its age. 

A $1.00 Magazine for 30 Cents. 

To any one sending us 30 cents and six names of friends 
who might subscribe for our magazine, we will mail our 
one dollar magazine a full year. At 30 cents we lose money 
the first year, but hope you will continue to be a subscriber, 
after seeing twelve numbers. If you wish to see the Maga- 
zine before subscribing, send 10 cents and receive a sample 
copy and a free gift of an aluminum dime-size charm, with 
the Lord’s prayer engraved in smallest characters; bright as 
silver, and never tarnishes. We do not send sample copies 
free, so save your postal cards, as no notice will be given 
them. Subscription price, $1.00 per year. Address 

THE NEW ST. LOUIS, 2819 Olive St., St. Louis, Mo. 


A CRUISE TO THE MEDITERRANEAN, 

By specially chartered steamer, Jan. 29. 1896, to Bermuda, 
Gibraltar, Malaga, Granada, Alhambra, Algiers, Cairo. Jeru- 
salem, Beyrout, Ephesus, Constantinople, Athens, Rome, 
Nice, etc. Only $550 and up, all excursion fees, etc., in- 
cluded. F. C. CLARK, 111 Broadway, N. Y. 


W W I QT I H \hf ^ As revise d a nd adopted by the 
*" r 1 1 2s 1 ww ^ American Whist Congress, 

with rules for KALAMAZOO DUPLICATE WHIST, sent to 
any address. Send 2-cent stamp. 

IHLING BROS. & EVERARD, Kalamazoo, Mich. 


ANAGRAMS ARE VERY ATTRACTIVE 

and interesting. Good Housekeeping, Springfield, Mass., 
will have one in its September issue which will make your 
family hilarious as well as richer for the prizes it offers. 
Send 20 cents for a sample copy. 


8 



LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 




The ART INTERCHANGE 

1 lie oldest and most progressive Monthly Magazine devoted to 

ART AND HOME DECORATION IN ALL BRANCHES. 


Decorative Art 
Biographies of Artists 
Illustration 
Sketching 

Art Notes and News 


Wood-Carving Architectural Plans 

Pyrography Artistic Photography 

China Painting Home Decoration 

Art Criticism Embroidery 

Painting in Oil and Water Colors, etc., etc. 


Each number lavishly and beautifully illustrated and accompanied by exquisite oil and water-color pictures, 
and superb supplements of full-size designs for all lzincls of art work. Yearly subscription, $ 4.00 # Single 
copies, with all supplements, 35 cents, at all dealers. 

Trial three months, October, November, and December (gorgeous Christmas No.) $1.00. 


Violets —Water-color. By Mary E- Hart. Size, 8 J 4 x 35 inches. Price, 50 cents, if sold singly. 


Three Months Free. 

By remitting $4.00 now for a year’s subscription you 
will receive the October, November, and December 
numbers FREE, as a premium, thus getting 

15 MONTHS FOR $4.00. 

This liberal offer is necessarily limited, and to secure 
full advantage of it you should subscribe at once. 


To China Painters. 

If you subscribe now for one year at $4.00, you will 
receive by return mail, FREE, as a premium, a choice 
collection consisting of 20 sheets containing a great 
variety of beautiful designs in colors for china-painting 
— all by prominent artists in this line. THIS WILL 
BE FOUND A MOST VALUABLE COLLECTION, 
AND WE URGE YOU TO LOSE NO TIME IN 
SUBSCRIBING IN ORDER TO SECURE THE COM- 
PLETE ASSORTMENT. 


Special Trial Offer. 

T O GIVE ALI readers of Lippincott’s an oppor- 
tunity to see for themselves what an indispensable 
thing The Art Interchange is in every home, we 
will, for only $1.00, send to any address, by return 
mail, 

O attractive numbers of The Art Interchange — 
all beautifully illustrated, and full of most valuable in- 
formation on art matters, and practical suggestions in 
all branches of Home Decoration, together with 
13 Design Supplements, and 

15 superb Oil andWater-color Pictures, including the 
two charming subjects shown in this advertisement. 

The pictures alone , at catalogue prices, sell for $3.40. 
They make beautiful subjects for framing, and are ad- 
mirably adapted for copying. 

Order now before the supply is exhausted. 

This splendid offer will be given FREE to any one 
remitting at once $4.00 for one year’s subscription ; or, 
you may send $1.00 now for the offer, and remit $3.00 
later for a full year. 

To avoid confusion in filling your order, 
cut out the particular offer you want, and 
send with remittance. 

You will he more than pleased with THE 
ART INTERCHANGE for 1896. 

Subscribe now and secure one of the fore- 
going generous offers as a premium. 


Chrysanthemums.— Water-color. By Maud Stumm. Size, 8 x 36 inches. Companion to the Violets. 

Price, 50 cents, if sold singly. 

Descriptive Illustrated Catalogue and 1896 THE ART INTERCHANGE. 152 West 23 d St., N.Y. 

Prospectus sent /or 2-ct. stamp. 


. *>■ ' • • ’ 




9 


LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 




Schools and Colleges. 


Pennsylvania, Philadelphia. 

A Thorough French and Bnglish Home School 

for Twenty Girls. Under the charge of Mine. Henrietta 
Clerc and Miss M. L. Peeke. French is warranted to be 
spoken in two years. Terms, $300 a year. Address 

Mme. H. CLERC, 4313 and 4315 Walnut Street. 


Pennsylvania, Kingston. 

Wyoming Seminary. 

A large and fully-equipped, co-educational 
school. Average experience of teachers, ten 
years. For Catalogue, address 


Pennsylvania, Philadelphia. 

The Misses Weldon, French & English School, 

331 South 17th Street, Philadelphia. 

Vacation Classes Travel Abroad. 

Application from a few young ladies wishing to join the 
School’s exclusive class travelling about Europe, June to 
October, 1895, received at 

331 South 17th Street, Philadelphia. 

Pennsylvania, Philadelphia. 

Pennsylvania College of Dental Surgery. 

The 40th Annual Session opens October 1, 1895. A three 
years’ graded course of Lectures, Quizzes, and Clinical 
Work offers superior advantages to students. Women ad- 
mitted. For further information, address 

Dr. C. N. Peirce, Dean, 1415 Walnut St., 'Philadelphia. 

New Jersey, Blairstown. 

Blair Presbyterial Academy. 

John I. Blair Foundation. 

Both sexes. 48th year. Prepares for College or Business. 
Music, Physical Culture. New fire-proof building for ladies. 
Low rates. Superior advantages. Send for catalogue. 

W. S. Eversole, Ph.D., Prin. 


New Jersey, Morristown. 

St. Hilda’s School. 

Fifteenth year begins September 23d. Terms, $300. Sum- 
mer Session, July 1st, $60. Early application. Address for 
circulars, Sister Superior. 


New York City, 91st and 92d Sts., and Central Park 
West. 


L. L. SPRAGUE, D.D., President. 


Pennsylvania, Swarthmore. 

Swarthmore College. 

Under care of Friends. Opens 9th month 17th, 1895. Full 
College Courses fur young men and young women, leading 
to Classical, Engineering, Scientific, and Literary degrees. 
Machine shops, laboratories, and libraries. For catalogue 
and particulars, address 

Charles DeGarmo, Ph.D., President. 


Pennsylvania, Union County, Lewisburg. 

Bucknell Institute. 

Refined Boarding School for Young Ladies. Literary, 
College Preparatory, Music and Art Courses; diplomas; 
large buildings; spacious campus; fourteen teachers. 
Rates, $230 to $260 per year. For year-book, address the 
Registrar, as above. 

Pennsylvania, Union County, Lewisburg. 

Bucknell Academy. 

Home School for Boys and Young Men. Prepares for 
College and Business. Eight teachers; large buildings; 
spacious campus. University privileges. Discipline firm. 
Rates, $185 to $230 per year. For year-book, address the 
Registrar, as above. 

Pennsylvania, Media. 

Media Academy for Boys. 

21st year. Classical, Scientific, English, and Commercial 
Courses. Careful preparation for leading colleges. Excel- 
lent table and all home comforts. Location unsurpassed. 
Send for circular. Chas. W. Stuart, Principal. 


Rugby Academy. 

A Boarding and Day School for Boys. Preparation for all 
colleges. Extensive grounds. Send for Illustrated Year- 
Book. 


New York, Fort Edward. 

Fort Edward Collegiate Institute 

For Young Women and Girls. 38th year. September 24. 
$270. Five Graduating Courses and Preparatory. Twelve 
expert teachers. Art, Music, Elocution, Stenography, Mod- 
ern Languages. Superior buildings and appointments. 
Illustrated Catalogue. 

Jos. E. King, D.D. 


Connecticut, Bridgeport. 

Golden Hill Seminary for Girls. 


Miss Emily Nelson, 

Miss Anna E. Plympton, 


Principals. 


Virginia, Warrenton. 

Fauquier Institute for Young Ladies. 

The thirty-fifth year begins Sept. 19th, 1895. Situated in 
Piedmont region of Virginia, on Richmond and Danville 
Railroad, fifty-four miles from Washington. Terms reason- 
able. For catalogue, address 

GEO. G. BUTLER, A.M., Principal. 


Virginia, Bethel Academy. 

Bethel Military Academy. 

Prepares for Universities, Business, and West Point. Terms, 
$200. Northern patronage solicited. Address for catalogue, 
Maj. R. A. McIntyre, Bethel Academy P. O. 


Maryland, Baltimore, 915 and 917 North Charles St. 

Southern Home School for Girls. 

Mrs. W. M. Cary, Miss Cary. 54th year. 

Summer address, Bar Harbor, Maine. 


Illinois, Woodstock. 

Todd Seminary for Boys. 

An ideal home school for sixty boys, near Chicago. Forty- 
eighth year. 

NOBLE HILL, Principal. 

— 

Woman’s Medical College 

OF PENNSYLVANIA. 

The 46th Annual Session opens Sept. 25, 1895. A four years’ 
graded course of Lectures, Quizzes, Laboratory and Clinical 
Work, oilers superior advantages to students. Address 
Clara Marshall, M.D., Dean, 1712 Locust St., Philadelphia. 


The Leading Conservatory of America. 

Carl Faeltbn, Director. tod 


Founded by E. Tourjbe - e>Y\ ^ 

in 1853. ^ A r,On S 




^v\aod Co1 


Bos 


,toO' 








■ Send for Prospectus 
giving full information. 

Frank W. Hale, General Manager. 


10 





«'§ = -^S§>^ ; ^ = °‘ J <=,c ^— ry< 


J. B. Lippincott Company’s 

NOVEMBER ANNOUNCEMENT 

OF 

New and Forthcoming Publications, 

FOR THE 

HOLIDAY SEASON, 

1895. 


A complete Illustrated Christmas Catalogue, ready November 5, sent post- 
paid to any address. 


IMPORTANT JUVENILES. 

A New Alice in the Old Wonderland. 

A Fairy Tale by A. M. Richards. Profusely Illustrated by Anna M. 
Richards, Jr. i2mo. Cloth, 
gilt top, $1.50. 

There is just as much clever and 
genuine fun in the letter-press, and as 
much grace and humor in the illustra- 
tions, as in the “ Old Alice,” made famous 
so many years ago by Carroll and Teuniel, 
and still in the front rank of amusing 
juveniles. 

The author has fashioned a New 
Alice, who makes another tour of the 
Wonderland, and meets many of our 
old friends : Peggy the Pig, The Duchess, 

The Red Queen, The Mock Turtle, and 
The Tweedles, all appear on the scene. 

The artist has caught the proper spirit 
in her skilfully executed illustrations, 
and the general result cannot fail to be _ 
as amusing for the old as it is entertain- 
ing for the young. 




r-P 







J. B. Lippincott Company’s 





^og-ooso^w^o ^0^.00 go^ ^ ^SooSt.^, 


Sr** 


'W* 


Trooper Ross, 



by CflPT- CHHRL65 KING, U.S.fL 

v» 



and Signal Butte. 

Two stories in one volume. By 
Captain Charles King, U.S.A. 

With illustrations by Charles 
H. Stephens. Crown 8vo. 
Cloth, $1.50. 

Captain King has for many years 
been the delight of thousands of readers 
who enjoy a lively story of army life 
and exciting adventure. That one so 
qualified should now turn his attention 
to a story for boys, full of exciting ad- 
venture, with of course more youthful 
heroes than usual, will no doubt ease the 
fears of many who wish to give a book 
to some youthful friend without the 
“dime novel” features of so many works 
of this stamp. The book is admirably il- 
lustrated by the well-known artist Charles 
H. Stephens. 


Chumley’s Post. 

A Story of the Pawnee Trail. By William O. Stoddard. With 
illustrations by Charles H. Stephens. Crown 8vo. Cloth, $1.50. 

A thrilling tale of pioneer life in the far West, written in Mr. Stoddard’s 
happiest vein. It is full of adventure, and graphically depicts the dangers sur- 
rounding first settlers in that region. The peculiar modes of Indian life and 
warfare are described, and the beauties as well as faults of Indian character are 
faithfully shown. The story is tempered by the thread of sentiment and love 
running throughout the work, making it a most charming romance. 

The Young Castellan. 

A Tale of the English Civil War. A Book for Bo3^s. By George 
Manville Fenn, author of “The New Mistress,” etc. Crown 
8vo. Cloth. Illustrated. $1.50. 

Mr. Fenn has been for many years a prolific writer of romances and books for 
boys ; he always tells his story with spirit and great historical accuracy, and the 
present exciting story of adventure is quite as instructing as entertaining. 

The Wizard King. 

A Story of the Last Moslem Invasion of Europe. By David Kerr, 
author of “Cossack and Czar,” etc. With six full-page illus- 
trations by W. S. Stacy. i2tno. Cloth, $1.50. 

The Christmas happiness of many boys would not be complete without the 
gift of a book ; and one from the pen of the well-known writer of stories for boys 
will no doubt be doubly welcome. 


<S> 


<&> 

I 

fa 

1 


ft 

<S> 

u 


<s> 

I 












« 


Q^oo^o ^ 




November Announcements. 


^0^°^ °°S o s?o^ ! (fiJ 



’^°^o 




A Last Century Maid. 

A Juvenile by Anne H. Wharton, author of “Through Colonial 
Doorways,” “Colonial Days and Dames,” etc. Quarto. Illus- 
trated. Cloth, ornamental, $1.50. 

The demand for Miss Wharton’s previous works bears witness to her popularity 
as an author, and this work will show her to be as warmly welcomed by the young 
folks as she has previously been by their elders. 

This volume consists of eight short stories, taking its title from the initial 
number. Of the author’s two previous volumes a prominent critic says, — 

“ Last Christmas a little volume made a great sensation in the world of letters, 
— ‘Through Colonial Doorways.’ Now there comes another little book uniform 
with that, by the same author, and surpassing it, if possible, in interest and 
beauty. The famous beauties of by-gone days come back to us, bringing with 
them their train of gallant men who fought so bravely for country and home ; 
aye, and for sweet love’s sake. Such charming romance, such delightful episodes ! 
Nowadays we have no love-story, no romantic adventure that can compare with 
those of the old colonial days of romance and gallantry. Of those days and 
adventures this little book tells the story. One reads the last word with a sigh 
of regret, and takes it up again and again with renewed pleasure.” 

Cousin Mona. 

By Rosa Nouchette Carey, author of “Tittle 


‘ Aunt Diana, ’ ’ 
Cloth. Ulus- 


CWSlH MONA 


A Story for Girls. 

Miss Muffet,” 
etc. 1 2 mo. 

trated. $1.25. 

With great descriptive power, con- 
siderable and often quiet fun, there is a 
delicacy and tenderness, a knowledge and 
strength of purpose, combined with so 
much fertility of resource and originality 
that the interest never flags, and the sen- 
sation on putting down any of her works 
is that of having dwelt in a thoroughly 
healthy atmosphere. 


Miss Carey’s Library for 
Girls. 

Consisting of Little Miss Muffet and 
Cousin Mona. Two volumes. 
i2mo. Cloth. Illustrated. 

In box, $2.50. 

Aunt Diana. Our Bessie. Merle’s Crusade. Esther. Averil. 

i2tno. Cloth, $1.25 per volume. Five volumes, uniform binding, in 
neat box, $6.25. 



13 






Lo^°‘o.| 


^ 00 


^NoS Q ^ nn ^° ^ fffl 


^c^oo 


J. B. Lippincott Company’s 


^oSLoo 
^ ?*-<■ 




Girls Together. 

By Amy E. Blanchard, author, of “Two Girls,” etc. Illustrated 
by Ida Waugh. 121110. Cloth, $1.25. 

Amy E. Blanchard, the author of “Two Girls,” has evidently known and 
deeply studied the manners of young people in their teens, and she has repro- 
duced for other young people a life-like book which will please because it is true, 
and because its truth is interesting. 

Miss Blanchard’s Library for Girls. 

Consisting of “Two Girls” and “Girls Together.” Two volumes. 
i2mo. Cloth, in box, $2.50. 

A Book of Nursery Songs and Rhymes. 

Edited by S. Baring=GouId. With Illustrations by members of the 
Birmingham Art School. Crown 8vo. Cloth, gilt top, $ 2.00 . 
Uniform with Baring-Gould’s Fairy Tales. 

Rev. S. Baring-Gould has collected all the nursery rhymes extant and has 
edited them with critical notes. The book is profusely illustrated, and printed on 
hand-made paper. 

Popular History of Animals for Young People. 

By Henry Scherren, F.Z.S. With fourteen colored plates and numer- 
ous wood-cuts. 8vo. Cloth, $3.00. 

The object of this book is to give a short account of the Animal Kingdom in 
clear and simple language. The book being intended chiefly for young people, no 
formal classification has been given, and popular names have been used throughout. 
The author has written a book that will serve to awaken or quicken our interest 
in the observation of the habits of the lower animals. 


By F. M. Holmes, 

Illustrated by W. 


Hugh Melville’s Quest. 

A Boy’s Adventures in the Days of the Armada, 
author of “Winning His Eaurels,” etc. 

Boucher. i2mo. Cloth, $1.25. 

A story of the defeat of the Spanish Armada by the English. Hugh Melville 
is the younger son of the noble house of that name. His personal adventures 
here are thrillingly told ; but apart from these, the value of the book as a boy’s 
story lies in its excellent pictures of English life during Elizabeth’s reign and in 
the vivid description of England’s greatest naval triumph. To learn history in 
this fascinating way is to remember it always and as sensibly as if one had acted 
in its actual scenes. The pictures are just such as best catch and hold the fancy 
of any bright boy or girl. 


14 




00 ■gSo 




November Announcements. 


'g s J'*r 




oogjo 





MISCELLANEOUS. 


Literary Shrines. 

The Haunts of Some Famous 
American Authors. By Theo- 
dore F. Wolfe, M.D., Ph.D. 
Illustrated with four photo- 
gravures. 1 2 mo. Crushed 
buckram extra, gilt top, deckel 
edges, $1.25; half calf or half 
morocco, $3.00. 

Two volumes in a box, $2.50 ; 


A Literary Pilgrimage. 

Among the Haunts of Famous 
British Authors. By Theodore 
F. Wolfe, M.D., Ph.D. Illus- 
trated with four photogravures. 
i2mo. Crushed buckram extra, 
gilt top, deckel edges, $1.25 ; 
half calf or half morocco, 
$3.00. 

half calf or half morocco, $6.00. 


For many years it has been the privilege of Dr. Wolfe to ramble and sojourn 
in the scenes amid which his best beloved American authors lived and wrote. He 
has made repeated pilgrimages to the shrines described in his works, and has 
been favored by intercourse and correspondence with many of the authors adverted 
to in “ Literary Shrines.” 

The notes of his sojourns in the scenes hallowed by the presence of British 
authors are particularly full in description of places hitherto but rarely described. 
If in ‘‘A Literary Pilgrimage” some popular literary shrines are accorded but 
scant notice, it is for the reason that they have been so often described that 
portrayal of them is purposely omitted from this account of a literary pilgrimage. 


The Land of the Muskeg. 

By H. Somers Somerset. With over one hundred illustrations and 
maps. Crown 8vo. Cloth, $4.00. 

‘‘‘The Land of the Muskeg’ shows English pluck, a cheerful endurance of 
privations, and is written in a pleasant and amusing manner. The good maps are 
an important addition to the volume .” — New York Times. 

‘‘This is an account of an adventurous journey by an intrepid young English- 
man, who has not yet reached his majority, but who has already become a veteran 
traveller. Young Somerset is a son of the noted Lady Henry Somerset, and 
dedicates his book to his mother, who is the daughter of the last Earl Somers. 
The story is profusely illustrated with one hundred and ten pictures, from sketches 
by Mr. Pollen and photographs. ’ '—Philadelphia Evening Telegraph. 

Hans Breitmann in Germany. 

By Charles Godfrey Leland. i2mo. Ornamental title and cover. 
$1.25. Published in connection with T. Fisher Unwin, of L,ondon. 
Mr. Leland has been seized with a renewal of the old inspiration ; hence this 
further instalment of the excellent Dog-English of Hans. The old book is a 
classic : all the new book wants is time to become so. 

15 








J. B. Lippincott Company’ s 





o&p&oo^o^ fa 00 wj0‘2 *0?^ 00 ^*^6 w $La 0 ^P^ 00 S^^b 


(pr* J ^ 





From Manassas to Appomattox. 

Memoirs of the Civil War in America. By Lieut.=Gen. James Long- 
street, C.S.A. With portraits of the author and other leading 
officers, and fourteen maps, in colors. About six hundred octavo 
pages. Cloth. Sold by subscription o?ily. 

Latest, and perhaps last, of the impor- 
tant contributions to the history of the 
Civil War comes the Memoirs of General 
Longstreet, only survivor of that great tri- 
umvirate of captains of the Confederacy, of 
whom Robert E. Lee was the chief and 
“ Stonewall” Jackson the martyr on the 
field. 

Jackson was mortally wounded at Chan- 
cellorsville, and though General Lee survived 
for some years the great conflict in which he 
was one of the leaders, he maintained silence 
as to its conduct and course. 

Now, after the lapse of thirty years, his 
lieutenant, the old commander of the First 
Corps in the Army of Northern Virginia, 
brings forward what must inevitably come 
to be regarded as the authoritative Confeder- 
ate presentation of the events of the Civil War in the most important theatre of 
its action. 

The Evergreen. 

A Northern Seasonal. Part II. The Book of Autumn. Illustrated. 
4to. Embossed leather, $2.00, net. 

The second number of The Evergreen will have among its contributors, — 
S. R. Crockett, William Sharp, Fiona Macleod, Sir Noel Patou, Elisee Reclus, and 
the Abb6 Klein. The thirteen full-page drawings are by the following artists : 
R. Burns, J. Cadeuhead, John Duncan, Helen Hay, E. A. Hornel, etc. With 
numerous Celtic head- and tail-pieces. The Book of Spring, of which a few copies 
may still be obtained, received many favorable criticisms from the British and 
American press. 

“ Probably no attempt at renascence has ever been better equipped than that 
undertaken “ in the Lawnmarket of Edinburgh by Patrick Geddes and colleagues. ” 
The Book of Spring is altogether of the stuff bibliographical treasures are made 
of .” — Black and White (London). 

“Those who appreciate what is novel, original, and quaint, and what is likely 
to remain unique, should possess themselves of this volume .” — British Weekly 
(London). 

‘ ‘ The first of four quarto volumes, devoted to the seasons, is a very original 
adventure in literature and art. It is bound in roughly-embossed leather, very 
delicately tinted. It is superbly printed on fine paper, gilt edged over rubric at the 
top, and with rough sides. ... A high standard of literary quality is maintained 
throughout .” — Birmingham Post (England). 

16 


|^' q ^c|googP^' 0 (U) ^<^00^0^° °CIS °° °^oo &P (y) 


November Announcements . 




2*$f 


eW 


'^°^o 


** 


Cervantes. 

The History of the Valorous and Witty Kniglit-Erraut, Don Quixote 
of the Mancha. Translated by Thomas Shelton. The intro- 
duction by Justin McCarthy, and illustrated by Frank Brangwyn. 
4 volumes. i2mo. Cloth, $4.00 ; half calf or half morocco, $9.00. 
“This translation by Thomas Shelton was published in 1612, and was made 
from the second edition of the original work, printed in 1605 in Madrid. Shelton 
had the advantage of belonging to the same generation as Cervantes, and put the 
Spanish of Cervantes into the English of Shakespeare. It is best to read Don 
Quixote in Spanish, it is next best to read him in the English of Shelton.” — 
Justin Huntley McCarthy. 

Bismarck’s Table Talk. 


$ 


<8> 


Edited, with Notes and an Introduction, by Charles Lowe, M.A., 
author of “Prince Bismarck: an Historical Biography,” etc. 
With portrait. 121110. Cloth, $ 2.00 . 

The author’s previous volume bears witness to his thorough knowledge of the 
life and character of the greatest modern diplomat In this work, however, the 
author deals with the more intimate side of Bismarck’s character ; and his eccen- 
tricities, amusing chapters in his life, and witty sayings are fully dealt with. 




Napoleon’s Last Voyages. 

Being the Diaries of Admiral Sir Thomas Usslier, R.N., K.C.B. (on 
board the “ Undaunted”), and John R. Glover, Secretary to Rear- 
Admiral Cockburn (on board the “Northumberland”). With 
explanatory notes and illustrations. Crown 8vo. Cloth, $3.00. 

“ Here we have not legend, but fact. This account of Napoleon’s deportation 
to Elba, and next to St. Helena, consists of the Diaries of Admiral Sir Thomas 
Ussher, who, as Captain Ussher, commanded the “Undaunted,” which conveyed 
the fallen Emperor to his island principality ; and of Mr. John G. Glover, Secre- 
tary to Admiral Cockburn, upon whose ship, the “Northumberland,” Napoleon 
sailed to his Atlantic prison. Altogether the volume, which contains several 
portraits of Napoleon, is a most valuable and unimpeachable contribution to 
Napoleonic literature, in which there has lately been so considerable a revival of 
general interest . "—Daily News (London). 



A 

Hi 

A 

< 8 > 

§ 

a 


Advance Japan : 

A Nation Thoroughly in Earnest. By J. Horns, author of “War 
in Korea.” With eighty-three illustrations, and cover, by R. 
Isayama, military artist of the Buzen Clan, Southern Japan. 
Crown 8vo. Cloth. Illustrated. $4.50. 

The object of the writer has been to illustrate, both in words and in picture, 
the habits and customs of this interesting people. The commerce, the railways, 
and telegraphs, development of mining and ship-building, politics and religion, 
work and play, town and country, are alike brought before the reader in words 
and illustrations. 

17 


0 


ft 




'aK 




^cg 00 




J. B. Lippincott Company’ s 


(ffl ^ o^o^oo^o^. 


00 00 




Figure Drawing and Composition. 

Being a Number of Hints for the Student and Designer upon the Treat- 
ment of the Human Figure. By Richard G. Hatton, author of 
“A Text-Book of Elementary Design.” With one hundred and 
eiglity-four illustrations. 8vo. Cloth, $3.00. 

It is rare to find at all a book which deals intelligently, from the combined 
points of view of the artist and anatomist, on the subject of art-anatomy. The 
traits are so seldom mingled in a single author that there is scarcely a text-book 
on the subject that deserves mention in comparison with this judicious and sug- 
gestive volume of Mr. Hatton, and as art studies are now attracting uncommon 
attention in this country, we commend to all earnest learners this well-planned 
book. 

Turning on the Light. 

A Dispassionate Survey of President Buchanan’s Administration, from 
i860 to its close. Including a Biographical Sketch of the Author, 
Eight Letters from Mr. Buchanan never before Published, and 
Numerous Miscellaneous Articles. By Horatio King, ex-Post- 
master-General of the United States. Crown 8vo. Cloth, $2.00. 
Mr. King held the position of First Assistant Postmaster-General until 1861, 
when he was nominated by President Buchanan and confirmed by the Senate as 
Postmaster-General, serving in that capacity until the appointment of his suc- 
cessor by President Lincoln. After retiring from the Post-Office Department he 
was appointed by President Lincoln one of a board of commissioners to carry out 
the provisions of the Emancipation Proclamation in the District of Columbia. 
As a writer his style is simple and vigorous. His points are clear, and his argu- 
ments pertinent and forcible. His personal views and revelations cannot fail to 
make an important addition to the history of our country. 

Hill Caves of Yucatan. 

By Henry C. Hercer. Illustrated. 8vo. Cloth, $2.00. 

This is a clever and interesting account of the Corwith Expedition of the 
University of Pennsylvania in Yucatan, for the exploration of human culture 
layers in the mountain caverns, and of proving the antiquity and character of the 
Maya civilization in the peninsula. The work is profusely illustrated by photo- 
graphs of caves and drawings of cavern refuse exposed in the explorations. 

The Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe. 

In eight volumes. 121110. Cloth. Illustrated with twer^-four photo- 
gravures. To be published two volumes per month, commencing 
September, 1895. Subscriptions received for complete sets only. 

This edition will be published in connection with a well known London firm, 
and will be an example of the best class of English book-making. 


18 






November Announcements . 


<8Cr 


>=r 


m 









The Complete Works of Charles Lamb. 


Edited, with notes, by Percy Fitzgerald.. A new edition, in six 
volumes. Cloth, extra, with eighteen portraits of Lamb and his 
friends. 161110. Cloth, $6.00 ; half calf or half morocco, $13.50. 
Published in connection with Gibbings & Co., Eimited. 

This new edition is very carefully edited, with copious notes by Mr. Fitzgerald, 
a prominent English critic. The books are very tastefully printed on rough-edged 
paper, with specially designed title-pages. 


Songs and Other Verses. 

By Dollie Radford. A limited edition. i6mo. Cloth, deckel edges, 
$1.25, net. Published in connection with John Lane, of London. 

This book of poems by Dollie Radford, entitled “Songs and Other Verses,” 
possesses a tender delicacy of phrase and chastity of idea which mark it out for 
special commendation, even among the remarkable verse made known to us in 
the last few years. 

Agriculture. 

By R. Hedger Wallace, late Lecturer and Examiner in Agriculture to 
the Educational Department of Victoria, and the Victorian De- 
partment of Agriculture. 121110. Cloth. Illustrated. $1.25. 

This book has been written with the object of placing before the student and 
reader a simple statement of the principles of agriculture, based 011 general prac- 
tice, and not restricted to any specified country, or adapted to climatic or other 
conditions, since the natural laws on which agricultural principles are founded 
are of universal application. 


Lippincott’s Gazetteer of the World. 

Revised Edition of 1895. With Tables of Latest Census Returns. 
One volume. 8vo. Sheep, $12.00; half Turkey, $15.00; half 
Russia, $15.00. Two volumes. Sheep, $15.00; half Russia or 
half Turkey, $18.00. With Patent Index, 75 cents additional. 

It is scarcely necessary to say that in the present edition all the characteristic 
excellencies of former issues have been retained, but in addition to these features 
many improvements, such as are necessary to the perfection of a work of reference 
on a progressive science, like the science of geography, will be found embraced 
therein. It is confidently believed that the recent revisions of the work and the 
many improvements now first embraced in the volume will render this issue of 
1895 a worthy successor to preceding editions. 


19 


S% %,op' 


'o. 


00 -^ 0 ^° 




J. B. Lippincott Company’s 



NEW FICTION. 


Charles C. Abbott. 


Marie Corelli. 


Julien Gordon. 


JjijJ The “ Duchess. ” 

I 




A Colonial Wooing. 

A Novel. By the author of “The Birds About 
Us,” “Travels in a Tree-Top,” etc. i2mo. 
Cloth, $1.00. 

Much interest has been excited in this new venture of 
Dr. Abbott’s, by the fact that it chronicles the doings and 
adventures of some of his own ancestors. He has, further- 
more, so successfully reproduced the atmosphere of that 
most interesting period — the days of our great-great-grand- 
fathers— that those who wish may realize the life which they 
lived. 

The Sorrows of Satan ; 

Or, The Strange Experience of one Geof- 
frey Tempest, Millionaire. A Romance. 
By the author of “Barabbas,” “The Soul of 
Lilith,” “Ardath,” “Thelma,” “Vendetta.” 
With frontispiece. 121110. Cloth, $1.50. 

The announcement of a new novel from the pen of 
Marie Corelli may easily be termed the most important of 
the present year. The author has been busily engaged 
upon the work ever since the publication and consequent 
enormous success of her last novel, “ Barabbas,” now in its 
twenty-fifth thousand, and it is believed replies very 
strongly to the detractors of that book. 

A Wedding, and Other Stories. 

Stories by the author of “ A Diplomat’s Diary,” 
“Poppsea,” etc. Tall i2mo. Buckram, $1.00. 
A collection of the shorter works of this popular 
author, none of which have previously appeared in book 
form. They comprise some of the strongest work she has 
done. 

Molly Darling, and Other Stories. 

By the author of “Phyllis,” “Molly Bawn,” etc. 
161110. Cloth, 50 cents. 

“ Mrs. Hungerford (The ‘ Duchess’) has won her repu- 
tation as a novelist rather than as a writer of short stories, 
but her ‘Molly Darling, and Other Stories,’ eight in all, 
entitle her to a high place among the short story writers of 
the day. The stories are gems, and the Lippincotts have 
given them a fitting setting .” — Boston Daily Advertiser. 

20 









November Announcements. 





t 


Owen Hall. 


Anna Robeson 
Brown. 


Rita.’ 


Frank Frankfort 
Moore. 


Dr. Eugene C. 
Savidge. 


The Track of a Storm. 

A Novel. 1 2mo. Cloth, $1.25. 

Although this is the author’s first attempt in writing a 




ture which compares favorably with the best work of Wey- 
man or even Dumas. 

The Black Lamb. 

A Novel. By the author of ‘ ‘ Alain of Halfdene, ’ ’ 
etc. i2mo. Cloth, ornamental, $1.25. 

This is Miss Brown’s first attempt at writing a novel of 
sufficient length for book form. There can be no question 
that the reputation acquired by “Alain of Halfdene” will 
be greatly increased. 

A Woman in It. 

A Sketch of Feminine Misadventure. By the 
author of “Daphne,” “Adrian Lyle,” etc. 
121110. Cloth, $ 1. 00 . 

A strong story of misadventures in the erratic career of 
a woman as much “ up to date” as circumstances permitted. 

The Secret of the Court. 

A Tale of Adventure. By the author of “They 
Call it Love ; ” “A Grey Eye or So, ’ * etc. 
i2mo. Cloth, illustrated, $1.25. 

“ It is a far cry from ‘ A Grey Eye or So’ and ‘ One Fair 
Daughter,’ both terrestrial books, with nothing of the 
supernatural in them, to ‘ The Secret of the Court,’ which 
is a tour de force by the same author, Frank Frankfort 
Moore. ’ ’ — Chicago Times- Herald. 

The American in Paris. 

A Biographical Novel of the Franco- Prussian War. 
The Siege and Commune of Paris from an 
American Stand-point. By the author of 
“ Wallingford,” “The Life of Benjamin Harris 
Brewster,” etc. 121110. Cloth, $1.00. 

“ Mr. Savidge takes up his story in 1870, and carries it 
through to the end of the ruthless Commune, — a story so 
thrilling, so interesting, that criticism forgets her part, and 
allows us to wander on and on through the sorrows of a 
living woman’s life until the inevitable shock brings us to 
our senses.” — Philadelphia Public Ledger. 

21 


^<=(goo 00 'o.(y)\*r 


J. B. Lippincott Company’s 














Elizabeth Phipps 
Train. 


C. F. Keary. 


Gertrude Warden. 


Smollett. 


^tlgoo^p^ 


A Social Highwayman. Hjl 

By the author of ‘ ‘ The Autobiography of a Pro- || 
fessional Beauty.” Illustrated. 161110. Cloth, A 
75 cents. ¥ 

The publication of this story in the July number of |j[|[ 
Lippincott' s Magazine and the consequent dramatization A 
and production of the play has created a demand for the 
story that has urged its publication in a neat book-form. QP 

y\ 

Herbert Vanlennert. j^j 

By the author of “The Dawn of History,” etc. A 
121110. Cloth, $1.25. ¥ 

A modern English novel of great force and power in Jvi 
treating of the burning questions of the day. jj^ 

Her Fairy Prince. vy 

A novel. In Lippincott' s Series of Select Novels Jl /1 
for October. 121110. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, 

$1.0°. , & 
A clever novel of English country life from the pen of A 
the sister of the well-known authoress, Florence Warden. M 

A Spoilt Girl. 

By the author of ‘‘A House in the Marsh,” etc. 

I11 Lippincott' s Series of Select Novels for Sep- o 
tember. i2mo. Paper, 50 cents ; cloth, $1.00. M 
“ Most novel readers remember the ‘ House on the $J| 
Marsh,’ and to them no introduction of Florence Warden A 
is necessary. There are many bright and truthful touches W* 
in the romance, and although it is one of the pleasantest Jjjj 
bits of fiction of the year.” — Syracuse Post . 

The Novels of Tobias Smollett. 

Edited by George Saintsbury. With portrait & 
and illustrations by Frank Richards. To 0 

be completed in twelve i6mo volumes. Sub- A 
scriptions received for complete sets only. 
Cloth, $12.00 ; half calf, $27.00 ; half morocco, M 
$27.00. A large-paper edition , limited to one *§* 
hundred and fifty copies. Twelve volumes, $ 

8 vo. Buckram, $36.00. 0 

The principles of editing adopted in this issue of Smol- A 
lett are the same as those which the editor applied in his 
presentations of Fielding and Sterne. 

^ _ I 


Florence Warden. 


November Announcements. 


<g>^ == P>=f 





~%S 


Mrs. H. Lovett 
Cameron. 


Mrs. Lindon W. 

Bates. 


Boccaccio. 


Mrs. Alfred 

Baldwin. 


A Bad Lot. 

By the author of “A Tragic Blunder,” “Jack’s 
Secret, etc. In LippincoW s Series of Select 
Novels for November. i2mo. Paper 50 cents ; 
cloth, $1.00. 

The book recounts with breezy charm the love affairs 
of Nell Forrester: young, beautiful, and the daughter of 
an improvident father. An early love affair colors her 
whole life ; and when she becomes engaged to Cecil Roscoe, 
the image of Darley haunts her, both with dread for her 
young indiscretions and with a pang of a broken attach- 
ment. She finds, at last, her true love to be quite another 
sort of man, and in the tragic surroundings of a theatre 
fire this love is revealed. 

Bunch=Grass Stories. 

By the author of “ A Blind Lead,” “ A Nameless 
Wrestler,” “Aramis,” etc. i2mo. Cloth, 

$ 1 . 2 $. 

“There are in these chapters humor and pathos, and 
sometimes tragedy, and always a keen insight into the 
workings of strikingly different types of mind ; and we 
shall be surprised if the author does not attain to a reputa- 
tion at once honorable and distinguished .” — The Congrega- 
tionalist. 

The Decameron. 

In four volumes. 121110. Cloth, $4.00 ; half calf, 
$9.00 ; half morocco, $9.00. Published in 
connection with Gibbings & Co., London. 

With the exception of private editions published by 
subscription, there has been no edition worthy of a place in 
private libraries. The names of the present publishers are 
a sufficient guarantee of its typographical accuracy and 
mechanical excellence. 

The Story of a Marriage. 

Published in connection with J. M. Dent & Co. 
Six illustrations. i2mo. Cloth, gilt top, $1.50. 
“The reprint of this delightful story by Mrs. Alfred 
Baldwin, author of ‘Where Town and Country Meet,’ is in 
the form of a new and revised edition, the paper, type, and 
uncut leaves adding much to its intrinsic attractions. It is 
the story of a marriage indeed, and that is but the story of 
human life itself. There are touches of pathos in the story 
that surpass its humor, and that is refined and exquisite to 
a large degree .”— Boston Courier. 

23 








J. B. Lippincott Company's 





Jessie Van Zile 
Belden. 


Alphonse Daudet. 


Emile Zola. 


The “ Duchess.” 


Joseph Hatton. 


Effie A. Rowlands. 


Mrs. Alexander. 


Fate at the Door. Jy[ 

New Novel of New York Society. i2mo. A 
Crushed buckram, ornamental, $1.00. A 

“ ‘Fate at tlie Door,’ by Jessie Van Zile Belden, is a 
bright, clever, well-told story, but on a theme which is as Jjfy 

old, certainly, as the time of Paris and Helen. The book a 

is strong, clean, and concise, and this is more than can be M 
said for many of the novels of women writers of the present 
day.” — San Francisco Chronicle. 0 

Fromont Junior and Risler Senior. (§1 

Translated by Edward Vizetelly, and illustrated 0 
with eighty-eight wood-engravings from origi- $jj 
nal drawings by George Roux. 8vo. Extra a 
cloth, gilt top, $ 2.oo . M 

The story of a woman without a heart. It is exciting V7' 
to the general reader, a sketch of society to the litterateur , ][/[ 

an admirably-constructed story to the novelist, and to the 
philosopher a weird, sombre, yet fascinating study of human '6* 
nature. jjj} 

A Love Episode (Une Page d’Amour). 

Translated, with a preface, by Ernest A. Vize- A 
telly. Profusely illustrated. 8vo. Extra Jgl 
cloth, gilt top, $ 2.oo . 

“ I will make all Paris weep,” said M. Zola to a friend, o 

when he had schemed out the plot of Une Page d' Amour ; M. 

and certainly, though one explore the entire domain of fic- a°a 
tion, it would be difficult to find a more pathetic story than © 
that of Helene Grandchamp’s struggle with passion, her 
fall, and her bitter punishment. ^ 

A Point of Conscience. 

By the author of “Phyllis,” “Molly Bawn,” etc. 

In press. 

When Greek Meets Greek. 

By the author of “By Order of the Czar, ” “ The 

Banishment of Jessop Blythe,” etc. In press. jjpj 

A Faithful Traitor. 

By the author of “My Pretty Jane,” “The Spell (tt 
of Ursula,” etc. In press. 

A Fight with Fate. 

By the author of “ The Wooing O’t.” hi press. 

24 


Q 


November Announcements . 



§ 

T0& 


MEDICINE. 


Pediatrics. 

The Hygienic and Medical Treatment of Children. By Thomas 
Morgan Rotch, M.D., Professor of the Diseases of Children, 
Harvard University. With over four hundred illustrations in the 
text, and eight full-page lithographic plates in colors. Over one 
thousand pages. By subscription only . 

The diseases peculiar to infancy and childhood, or the period from birth to 
puberty, are of a type so characteristic as to merit, and even demand, special study 
for their successful treatment. Physicians of eminence and ability have devoted 
their talents to pediatrics exclusively ; and the fruits of their labors are gathered 
into treatises at once copious and exhaustive. While this is true, the publishers 
have perceived the need both to students and practitioners of medicine, for a more 
compact treatise on pediatrics, whose scope, by including only the essential, shall 
be sufficiently full, exhaustive, and authoritative without filling up its pages with 
discussions of theoretical and mooted questions. 

Professor Rotch ’s work meets just this demand, and embodies the results of 
his experience for the past ten years, both as an original investigator and also as a 
clinical professor of Diseases of Children in Harvard University. The treatment 
is therefore from the stand-point of the lecturer, in which the clinical feature is 
prominent. The text matter has all been revised and rewritten within the past 
few months, and presents the author’s ideas and experience in pediatrics in their 
latest practical form. 

Medical Diagnosis, with Special Reference to 
Practical Medicine. (Eighth Edition.) 

A Guide to the Knowledge and Discrimination of Diseases. By J. M. 
Da Costa, M.D., LL.D., President of the College of Physicians of 
Philadelphia, Kmeritus Professor of Practice of Medicine and of 
Clinical Medicine at the Jefferson Medical College, Philadelphia ; 
Physician to the Pennsylvania Hospital, etc. New, eighth edition, 
thoroughly revised and enlarged. Illustrated with numerous 
engravings. 8vo. Cloth, $6.00 ; sheep, $7.00 ; half Russia, 
$ 7 - 50 . 

Another edition having been demanded, the author has revised the work, and 
altered some of its chapters. New matter has been inserted, old matter in parts 
condensed. 

There has been incorporated whatever of bacteriological interest appeared 
to be established as valuable for diagnostic purposes. The introduction of a 
number of additional wood-cuts and of temperature charts taken from cases 
actually observed, will conduce to greater clearness and accuracy. 

“ Da Costa’s work is well known and highly and justly esteemed in England as 
in America. It is too firmly established, and its value too thoroughly recognized, 
to need a word pro or con." — London Medical Times and Gazette. 

25 





LO^>o. 




(yj\v. 00 




°^OSO° 




J. B. Lippincott Company’s 




■ rfg ^' 0o ^f b ^ 


5 ^ G* 


'®°©o 




Cutaneous Medicine. 

A Systematic Treatise on the Diseases of the Skin. By Louis A. 
Duhring, M.D., Professor of Diseases of the Skin in the Uni- 
versity of Pennsylvania; author of “A Practical Treatise on 
Diseases of the Skin” and “Atlas of Skin Diseases.” Part I. 
Now Ready. With numerous wood-cuts and colored plates. 8vo. 
Cloth, $2.50. 

The present work has been written to take the place of the author’s former 
“Practical Treatise on Diseases of the Skin,” now out of print. The material 
dealt with in the present volume has on all sides been approached from a practical 
stand-point. It has been the aim of the author to adhere closely to the practical 
aspect of the subject, supported by science and by experience. The work, as a 
whole, rests on clinical observation supported by pathology and pathological 
anatomy. The principles of cutaneous pathology and therapeutics have been put 
forth upon conservative lines in the light of modern research and experience. 
The rapid strides that Dermatology has taken during the past decade have 
produced remarkable changes in the pathology of many of the diseases of the 
skin, but clinical observations are not the less valuable and important. 

O11 account of the great demand for the work, it has been determined to 
publish the book in two parts. Part I. contains : Anatomy of the Skin — 
Physiology of the Skin — General Symptomatology — General Etiology — General 
Pathology — General Diagnosis — General Treatment— General Prognosis. Part II. 
will follow shortly. 

Diphtheria and its Associates. 

By Lennox Browne, F.R.C.S., Ed., Senior Surgeon to the London 
Throat, Nose, and Ear Hospital. Numerous illustrations, colored 
and otherwise, by the author. 8vo. Cloth, $5.00. 

Every endeavor has been made to give the latest views on each separate branch 
of this vast subject, and for this purpose the opinions of recognized authorities 
are largely quoted. The author emphasizes the necessity of assimilating the 
teachings of bacteriology to the purposes of practical medicine, and indicates the 
further necessity for the scientific expert and the clinician to work together as 
colleagues and not as rivals. 

Functional and Organic Diseases of the Stomach. 

By Sidney Martin, M.D., F.R.S, F.R.C.P. Five hundred pages. 
Sixty illustrations. 8vo. Cloth, $5.00. 

It is some years since a systematic treatise on diseases of the stomach was 
published in English. No apology is therefore necessary for the issue of this work. 
During the past few years great advances have been made not only in pathological 
chemistry, but in pathology generally ; and these advances specially affect the 
study of functional and organic diseases of the stomach, inasmuch as the changes 
in the processes of digestion in disease have been studied during life, with the 
result of throwing great light not only on the symptoms, but also on the treat- 
ment of these diseases. 

26 






O ^ojgoo-@°'S P ' 




November Announcements. 



Text=Book of Normal Histology: 

Including an Account of the Development of the Tissues 
and of the Organs. Fourth Edition . By George A. Piersol, 
M.D., Professor of Anatomy in the University of Pennsylvania. 
With over four hundred illustrations, of which three hundred 
and fifty-eight are from original drawings by the author. 8vo. 
Cloth, $3.50. 

The favorable reception accorded the “Histology” has necessitated the print- 
ing of a fourth edition so soon after the first appearance of the book that but few 
changes have been made at the present time ; these consist for the most part of 
alterations of the text and the illustrations. 

“It is the best English work on the subject in existence. This maybe es- 
pecially urged in respect to its fitness as a text-book adapted to meet the needs of 
American medical students.”— John A. Ryder , M.D . , Professor of Comparative 
Embryology , University of Pennsylvania. 

“Its merits demand the most cordial recognition, and it ought to speedily 
become the standard manual in English. I consider it the best comprehensive 
treatise of the subject which I know in our language.” — Charles Sedgwick Minot , 
M.D. ,* Harvard Medical School. 

Tuberculous Disease of Bones and Joints : Its 
Pathology, Symptoms, and Treatment. 

By W. Watson Cheyne, M.D., Ed., F.R.S., F.R.C.S., Professor of 
Surgery in King’s College. Three hundred and seventy-four 
pages, with sixty-three illustrations. 8vo. Cloth, $5.00. 

The author has divided the matter of the following work into two parts — the 
first of which deals with the pathology and treatment of tuberculous diseases of 
bones and joints in general, and the second with the symptoms and treatment, 
founded on the foregoing pathology of the individual bones and joints in partic- 
ular, and will be useful to those who are called upon to treat these obstinate and 
very serious cases. The treatment described is that which the author has found 
best, and is employed by those who have paid special attention to these diseases. 


Urinalysis. 

Including five hundred blanks for Recording the Analysis and Micro- 
scopic Examination of the Urine. For Medical Practitioners, 
Life Insurance Companies, and Specialists. Arranged by Joseph 
C. Guernsey, A.M., M.D. Cloth, $3.00. 

“ This book must be of value not only to the specialist, in the treatment of 
kidney disorders, but to the advanced general practitioner as well. The directions 
for the analysis of urine are brief, but specific and clear,— sufficiently full for all 
practical purposes. In addition there are five hundred blanks numbered consecu- 
tively, which permit the recording of the complete clinical character of every 
case. The book should find a'place upon the table of every working physiciau.” 

27 


J. B. Lippincott Company’ s 




<g>^ 


v^r 




,s5 °^k> 


2-oS°®-° 0g,, ^0! 


A Hand-Book of Hygiene. 


By A. M. Davies, M.R.C.S., L.S.A., D.P.H. 

pages. Illustrated. 161110. feather, 


Five hundred and ninety 
1.00. 


The aim of the book is to make the reader acquainted as far as possible with 
what has been written on the subject by approved authorities, to compare and 
weigh different statements, to digest this information into as small a compass as is 
advisable without sacrificing clearness, and at the same time omit nothing of real 
importance. 



Infancy and Infant Rearing: an Introductory 
Manual. 


By John Benjamin Hellier, M.D., M.R.C.S. 

121110. Cloth, $1.25. 


With illustrations. 


The subject of this book is the maintenance of health in infancy ; not the 
treatment of disease, but its prevention. The work is intended, in the first place, 
for the use of those pupil-midwives and other nurses who seek a scientific uuder- 
stcnding of their work, so far as it affects the care of infants. 


A Medical and Surgical Help for Shipmates and 
Officers in the Merchant Navy. 

By W. Johnson Smith, F.R.C.S., Principal Medical Officer, Seamen’s 
Hospital, Greenwich, England. With colored plates and illustra- 
tions. Crown 8vo. Cloth, $2.25. 

The main objects of this manual are to afford some help in the treatment of 
injury and disease occurring at sea, and under other local conditions in which 
there may be no possibility of obtaining professional assistance. 


Therapeutics of Infancy and Childhood. 

By A. Jacobi, M.D., Clinical Professor of Diseases of Children, New 
York College of Physicians and Surgeons. In press. 


28 


November Announcements. 



A Hand=Book of Industrial Organic Chemistry. 

Adapted for the Use of Manufacturers, Chemists, and all interested in 
the Utilization of Organic Materials in the Industrial Arts. By 
Samuel P. Sadtler, Ph.D., author of “ A Hand-Book of Chemical 
Experimentation,” and Chemical Editor of the “United States 
Dispensatory,” Fellow of the Chemical Societies of London and 
Berlin, of the Society of Chemical Industry, Professor of Organic 
and Industrial Chemistry in the University of Pennsylvania, and 
of Chemistry in the Philadelphia College of Pharmacy, etc., etc. 
Second Edition , revised and enlarged. 8vo. Cloth, $ 5.00 ; half 
leather, $5.50. 

In the present edition the Bibliography has in all cases been rewritten and 
brought carefully to date. The statistics have also been brought down to the 
present year wherever new figures were attainable, and a number of new statistical 
tables have been added. 

Bach department of the book contains a brief description of the raw materials, 
the process of manufacture, the products and the means of analyzing them, and 
detecting impurities, and closes with the statistics of the industry and a reference- 
list of the principal works that have appeared on the subject in the last thirty 
years. The diagrams and figures illustrating various processes are excellent, and 
those often-neglected parts of such works as the tables and the index leave nothing 
to be desired. Altogether, the book ought to be in the reference library of every 
factory using either fibres or other organic materials. 

Elements of Modern Chemistry. 

By Charles Adolphe Wurtz. Fifth American edition. Revised and 
enlarged by Wm. H. Greene, M.D., and Harry F. Keller, Ph.D. 

i2mo. Cloth, $1.80; sheep, $2.15. Thoroughly revised. 

In the preparation of the present edition, the aim has been to preserve as nearly 
as possible the original plan and character of the work, but at the same time to 
make such changes as will entitle it to continue to rank as a modern text-book. 
To meet numerous requests, mention has been made of many matters that are of 
special interest to the student of medical chemistry. 

A Text=Book of Chemistry. 

Intended for the Use of Pharmaceutical and Medical Students. By 
Samuel P. Sadtler, Ph.D., F.C.S., Professor of Chemistry in the 
Philadelphia College of Pharmacy, and Henry Trimble, Ph.M., 
Professor of Analytical Chemistry in the Philadelphia College of 
Pharmacy. A handsome octavo volume of nine hundred and 
fifty pages, bound in cloth, $5.00 ; sheep, $ 6.00 . 

It is primarily designed as a text-book for students of both pharmacy and 
medicine, but at the same time it is so arranged that it will be a source of 
reference highly appreciated by the pharmacist and practitioner in professional 
life. 29 


J. B. Lippincott Company' s 








5 . 00 ^ 0 ^. 
v-r 





w 


A Text=Book on Applied Mechanics. 

Specially Arranged for the use of Engineering Students. By Andrew 
Jamieson, M. Inst. C. E., Professor of Electrical Engineering in 
Glasgow and West of Scotland Technical College ; Member of 
the Institute of Electrical Engineers ; Fellow of the Royal 
Society, Edinburgh. Volume I. With two hundred and thirty 
diagrams, folding plate, and examination questions. Crown 8vo. 
Four hundred and thirty pages. Cloth, $2.50. 

This text-book has been written expressly for second and third year students 
of applied mechanics, and forms a direct continuation of Prof. Jamieson’s Ele- 
mentary Manual of Applied Mechanics. It covers the advanced stage of the 
science and art department examinations, and treats on many points demanded 
by the honors section. It will moreover be found of considerable use to those 
who aim at passing the advanced and honors stages of the same examinations in 
machine construction and drawing. At the same time the treatment of the subject 
is sufficiently general to satisfy the wants of other engineering students who do 
not happen to have these special examinations in view. This book has been 
divided into six parts, and parts I. and II. are now issued together as a First Vol- 
ume. These two parts consist of Nineteen Lectures under the following general 
headings : Definitions of Matter and Work — Diagrams of Work — Moments and 
Couples — The Principle of Work applied to Machines — Friction of Plane Surfaces 
— Friction of Cylindrical Surfaces and Ships — Work absorbed by Friction in Bear- 
ings, etc — Friction usefully applied by Clutches, Brakes, and D}mamometers — 
Inclined Plane and Screws— Efficiency of Machines — Wheel Gearing — Friction 
Gearing — Teeth of Wheels — Cycloidal Teeth — Involute Teeth : Bevel and Mortise 
Wheels— Friction and Strength of Teeth — Belt, Rope, and Chain Gearing — 
Velocity-Ratio and Friction of, and Horse-Power Transmitted by, Belt and Rope 
Gearing— Miscellaneous Gearing. 

I11 every part of the subject a number of examples have been fully worked 
out, and at the end of each Lecture a series of carefully-selected questions has 
been arranged in the precise order of, and relating solely to, the subject matter 
of the Lecture, so that teachers and students may have a minimum of trouble in 
finding suitable examples. 

Volume II. in active preparation. 

Note. — E ach volume complete in itself and sold separately. 

Open Air Studies. 

An Introduction to Geology Out-of-Doors. By Grenville A. J. Cole, 
M.R.I.A., F.G.S., author of “Aids in Practical Geology.” With 
full-page illustrations from photographs, and figures in the text. 
Crown 8vo. Cloth, $3.00. 

Now that the elements of chemistry and physics are at last taking their place 
in the fundamental courses of self-respecting schools, a large number of persons 
are taking an intelligent interest in the world around them. The author has dealt 
in a wide spirit with the districts referred to, so that the observations may be trans- 
ferred and applied to the immediate surroundings of the reader. 

30 



^ j 
0^5 00' 




November Announcements. 


.« 


$ 


The Metallurgy of Iron and Steel. 

By Thomas Turner, Associate of the Royal School of Mines ; Fellow 
of the Institute of Chemistry ; Director of Technical Instruction 
to the Staffordshire County Council. Being one of a series of 
Treatises on Metallurgy written by Associates of the Royal School 
of Mines. Edited by Prof. W. C. Roberts= Austen, C.B., F.R.S. 
Illustrated by eighty engravings. In one volume. 8vo. Three 
hundred and sixty-seven pages. Price, Cloth, $5.00. 

This book is one of a series of volumes written by Associates of the Royal 
School of Mines, and edited by Professor Roberts-Austen. It is not a merely 
elementary text-book on the one hand, or an exhaustive treatise on the other ; 
nor does it cover the syllabus of any examining board. It is primarily intended 
for persons who are connected with the manufacture of iron and steel, and who 
may, therefore, be assumed to have already some general knowledge of the sub- 
ject discussed. At the same time, it is hoped that, with the growing importance 
of scientific and technical instruction in a modern liberal education, such a 
volume as the present may not be without interest to others than those for whom 
it was specially prepared. 

The history of the manufacture of iron and steel is treated more fully than is 
usual in metallurgical treatises. It was thought that a brief history of the subject 
would not merely be of considerable educational value, but would assist the student 
in learning certain metallurgical facts in an interesting manner ; and, while show- 
ing the steps by which modern achievements have been accomplished, would 
indicate to the would-be inventor some of the paths which have been already 
travelled. 

The portions dealing with foundry practice and with the reactions of the 
puddling furnace have been dealt with in greater detail than usual, as the author 
has paid special attention to these subjects, and has been frequently asked to 
publish his researches in a convenient form. A special chapter has also been 
devoted to the corrosion of iron and steel, as this subject is of great importance in 
connection with the permanence of modern structures. 

Numerous references to original sources of information have been given 
throughout the volume, since it is of the utmost importance that the student 
should acquire the habit of obtaining for himself further information on subjects 
which can necessarily only be very briefly treated in a work which deals with so 
large a subject. 

The Chemical Analysis of Iron. 

A Complete Account of all the Best- Known Methods for the Analysis 
of Iron, Steel, Pig-Iron, Iron Ore, Limestone, Slag, Clay, Sand, 
Coal, Coke, and Furnace and Producer Gases. By Andrew Alex- 
ander Blair, Graduate United States Naval Academy, 1866 ; Chief 
Chemist United States Board appointed to Test Iron, Steel, and 
other Metals, 1875 ; Chief Chemist United States Geological Sur- 
vey and Tenth Census, 1880 ; Member American Philosophical 
Society, etc. New Third Edition in Preparation. 


I 


& 


to 

<S> 

to 


to 










J. 73. Lippincott Company’s 



Disinfection and Disinfectants, 


Together with an Account of the Chemical Substances used as Anti- 
septics and Preservatives. By Samuel Rideal, D.Sc. (Lond.), 
Fellow of University College, London ; Fellow of the Institute of 
Chemistry and of the Chemical Society ; Member of the Sanitary 
Institute of Great Britain, and of the Society of Public Analysts, 
etc., etc. In one volume. Illustrated. 8vo. Three hundred 
and twenty-eight pages. Cloth, $4.50. 

No recent attempt has been made to summarize and review the very volumin- 
ous literature on the subject of Disinfection, which is scattered through our own 
and foreign Scientific and Medical publications, and, notwithstanding the rapid 
development of Sanitary Science, there does not exist at the present time, in the 
English Language, any book which deals exclusively with the composition of 
Disinfectants. 

The present volume may, therefore, supply a want which has been felt, not 
only by the chemist and bacteriologist, but also by all those who, like medical 
officers of health and borough surveys, are concerned with the practical work of 
Disinfection. 

CONTENTS. — Chapter I. Introductory. II. Mechanical Disinfection. III. 
Disinfection by Heat. IV. Chemical Disinfectants. The Non-Metallic Elements 
and their Derivatives. V. The Non-Metallic Elements and their Derivatives ( con- 
tinued ). VI. Metallic Salts. VII. Metallic Salts ( continued ). VIII. Organic 
Substances. IX. Organic Substances [continued). X. Organic Substances [con- 
tinued). XI. Compounds Related to the Alcohols. XII. Practical Methods. XIII. 
Personal and Internal Disinfection— Food Preservation. XIV. Legal Statutes and 
Regulations. XV. Methods of Analysis. Bibliography. Index. 


The Wonders of Modern Mechanism. 

A Resume of Recent Progress in Mechanical, Physical, and Engineer- 
ing Science. By Charles Henry Cochrane, Mechanical Engineer, 
author of “Artistic Homes, and How to Build Them,” “The 
History of Marlborough.” Crown 8vo. Cloth, $ 2 . 00 . 

The subjects are not those that have been written threadbare, — the telephone, 
electric light, trolley railway, etc., being regarded as old and familiar stories. 
Instead of these we have the most recent results of scientific mechanical develop- 
ment, so that the world of to-morrow is opened up to our observation, and we may 
read of the inventions that have been worked out, but which are not yet intro- 
duced. Among the titles of chapters are : Electricity and its Future, Submarine 
Boats, the Kineto-Phonograph, Flying Machines, Horseless Vehicles, The Chain- 
ing of Niagara Falls, Nikola Tesla and His Oscillator, The Electric Locomotive, 
Conduit Electric Railways, A Hundred and Twenty Miles an Hour, Big Business 
Buildings, Aluminum the Metal of the Future, The Spectroscope, Ocean Grey- 
hounds, Recent Progress in Guns and Armor, Improvements in Telegraphy, 
Extraordinary Bridges, Some Great Tunnels, Progress in Printing, etc., etc. 

32 











November Announcements . 


ot> §Or^- 




A Hand=Book of Garment Dyeing and Cleaning. 

By George F. Hurst, F.C.S., Member of the Society of Chemical In- 
dustry ; lecturer at the Municipal Technical School, Manchester ; 
author of “Silk Dyeing, Printing, and Finishing,” “Dictionary 
of Coal-Tar Colours,” etc. With numerous illustrations. i2mo. 
Cloth, $1.75. 

This little book has been written to supply a want which exists for a hand- 
book on the processes employed by the garment dyeing and cleaning trades. 
The writer has endeavored to lay down those principles which underlie the arts 
under consideration, and to give some idea how those principles are applied in 
practice, so that a practical man may, when work of a character such as he has 
not previously had comes under his notice, be able to undertake that work satisfac- 
torily by means of following up the suggestions he may find embodied in the 
book. 

Petroleum : 

A Treatise on the Geographical Distribution, Geographical Occurrence, 
Chemistry, Production, and Refining of Petroleum ; its Testing, 
Transport, and Storage, and the Legislative Enactments relating 
thereto ; together with a description of the Shale Oil Industry. 
By Boverton Redwood, F.R.S.E., F.I.C., Assoc. Inst. C.E., Hon. 
Corr. Mem. of the Imperial Russian Technical Society ; Mem. of 
the American Chemical Society ; Consulting Adviser to the Cor- 
poration of London under the Petroleum Acts, etc., etc. Assisted 
by Geo. T. Holloway, F.I.C., Associate, Royal Coll, of Science. 
Illustrated. 8vo. Cloth. In preparation. 

Bleaching and Calico Printing. 

A Short Manual for Students and Practical Men. By George D. 
Duerr, F.C.S. With Illustrations and Printed Specimens designed 
specially to show different stages of the various processes de- 
scribed. Crown 8vo. Cloth. In preparation. 

Gas Manufacture (The Chemistry of). 

A Hand-Book on the Production, Purification, and Testing of Illumi- 
nating Gas ; and the Assay of Bye-Products of Gas Manufacture. 

By W. J. Atkinson Butterfield, M.A., F.C.S. Crown 8vo. 
Cloth. In preparation. 

General Contents : Raw Materials for Gas Manufacture ; Coal Gas ; Carbu- 
retted Water Gas ; Oil Gas ; Enriching by Light Oils ; Final Details of Manu- 
facture ; Gas Analysis ; Photometry ; Applications of Gas ; Bye-Products. 

Chemical Technology. 

By A. G. Bloxam, Head Chemist, Goldsmith’s Institute, and Bertram 
Blount. Crown 8vo. Cloth. In preparation. 

33 



Of 








LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


Lippincott’s Pronouncing 
Gazetteer of the World. 

EDITION OF 1895, WITH LATEST CENSUS RETURNS. 
NEWLY REVISED AND ENLARGED. 


A complete Pronouncing Gazetteer or Geographical Dictionary of the 
World, containing notices of over 125,000 places, with recent and authentic 
information respecting the Countries, Islands, Rivers, Mountains, Cities, 
Towns, etc., in every portion of the globe. Originally edited by Joseph 
Thomas, M.D., LL.D., author of “ Lippincott’s Pronouncing Biographical 
Dictionary,” “Thomas’s Pronouncing Medical Dictionary,” etc., etc. 

One imperial 8vo volume of nearly 3000 pages. Library sheep, $12.00; half Turkey, 
$ 15.00 ; half Russia, $15.00. Patent Index, 75 cents additional. 

In the preparation of this edition of “ Lippincott’s Pronouncing Gazetteer of the 
World,” not only have notices of a large number of new places been now for the first 
time included in its pages, — places that were unknown when former editions were 
issued, — but the contents of the entire volume have been subjected to such a thorough 
revision as, it is believed, will easily maintain for it the position, which it has so long 
occupied, of being without a rival among works of its class in the English language. 
Especially has it been the care of the editors, in the prosecution of their labors, to 
embody in the work such recent information as has lately been rendered available by 
the publication of the new census returns of our own and foreign countries and of other 
kindred works, and to so arrange this information that it will be practical^ useful for 
casual reference and convenient for those w T ho may desire to make a more thorough 
acquaintance with the minutiae of geographical facts. 

Embraced in the more important improvements in the body of the work may be 
named the revision of the articles on the several States and Territories (including 
articles now first inserted on North Dakota, South Dakota, and Oklahoma) by well- 
known experts iu physical and political geography ; the renewed descriptions of the 
principal cities iu the United States, chiefly by residents thereof ; notes on recent 
explorations and discoveries by European governments in foreign lands (Asia, Africa, 
etc.), with statistical information relating to the colonies heretofore established there ; 
and a vast number of minor changes in the notices of the cities, towns, and villages of 
our own and foreign countries. 


TESTIMONIALS. 

“ The volume is greatly in advance of any other geographical dictionary in the language, 
and is entitled to a generous welcome from the student of science, the man of business, the 
journalist, and the members of the other learned professions, the men of political office and 
affairs, and the curious readers of the family circle .” — New York Tribune. 

“ The value and importance of ‘ Lippincott’s Gazetteer of the World’ can scarcely be 
estimated in dollars and cents. Were it impossible to obtain its like, no money would com- 
pensate for its deprivation. It is without a peer in its special design and purpose, and, for 
thoroughness, completeness, and comprehensiveness, is unmatched by any publication of the 
kind in this country, if not in the world. This is not extravagant eulogium, as a careful 
examination of the contents of the ponderous volume will show .” — Chicago Evening Journal. 

“Such a volume as this is the inseparable companion of the unabridged dictionary of the 
language on the table of the writer and reader. It is the invaluable result of vast and intelli- 
gent labor, most appreciated by those who know the most .” — New York Observer. 

“ No other work in English, so far as we are aware, rivals this in accuracy and thorough- 
ness, and if the publishers had chosen to continue the issue of the original edition, with only 
such slight revisions as it might have been convenient from time to time to make, there would 
have been little danger of its being superseded by any other work for a considerable time to 
come. At least the work may be described, without exaggeration, as an indispensable one for 
public and private libraries, for students, and for all who desire authentic information concern- 
ing their own and other countries .” — Boston Journal. 


For sale by all Booksellers, or will be sent direct by 

J. B. LIPPINOOTT COMPANY, Publishers, Philadelphia. 


34 


LIPPINCOTTS MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 



EVERY SCHOOL LIBRARY 

SHOULD CONTAIN THESE 

Standard Reference Works. 

Allibone’s Dictionary of Authors, with Supplement. 

Allibone’s Quotations. Three Volumes. 

Ancient and Modern Familiar Quotations. 

Blunt’s Dictionary of Sects and Heresies. 

Blunt’s Dictionary of Theology. 

Bombaugh’s Gleanings for the Curious. 

Bouvier’s Law Dictionary. 

Brewer’s Dictionary of Miracles. 

Brewer’s Historic Note=Book. 

Brewer’s Reader’s Handbook. 

Brewer’s Dictionary of Phrase and Fable. 

Chambers’s Book of Days. 

Chambers’s Cyclopaedia of English Literature. 
Chambers’s Encyclopaedia. Ten Volumes. 
Chambers’s Information for the People. 

Edwards’s Words, Facts, and Phrases. 

Furness’s Variorum Edition of Shakespeare’s Plays. 
Furness’s Concordance to Shakespeare’s Poems. 
Gardner’s Latin Lexicon. 

Great Truths by Great Authors. 

Groves’s Greek and English Dictionary. 
Heath’s Dictionary of Practical Surgery. 

Jenkins’s Vest=Pocket Lexicon. 

Lempriere’s Classical Dictionary. 

Leverett’s Latin Lexicon. 

Lippincott’s Biographical Dictionary. 

Lippincott’s Gazetteer of the World. 
Longman’s Pocket Dictionary of the German and English Languages. 
Pickering’s Greek and English Lexicon. 

Pocket Dictionary of the Spanish and English Languages 
Roget’s Thesaurus. 

Soule’s Synonymes. 

Thomas’s Medical Dictionary. 

United States Dispensatory. 

Walsh’s Handy=Book of Literary Curiosities. 

Worcester’s Dictionaries. 

Writer’s Handbook (The). 


Write for a Descriptive Catalogue aud Price-List of the above to the Publishers, 

J. B. L5PPINCOTT COMPANY, 


715 and 717 Market Street, 


PHILADELPHIA. 




35 


LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 




Great Special Offer! 

POSITIVELY LIMITED TO DECEMBER 3IST. 

Thousands of doctors, lawyers, clergymen, business men, teachers, scholars, and parents, as well as many readers of 
this magazine, have requested us to make a special ofl'er, ior a limited time, on our great standard dictionary and 
encyclopedia of the world's knowledge. We have decided to do so simply as a means of advertising this great 
storehouse of information. We do not expect to make money by this offer, as the very low price and extremely 
liberal terms offered but little more than pays for paper, printing, and binding ; but the tremendous amount of talk created 
will help to advertise this most modern and up-to-date home reference library. 

No business or professional man, housewife, teacher, student, young or old, prosperous or otherwise, or any one else 
who wishes to keep abreast of the times, or who is interested in the laudable enterprise of self education, can afford to allow 
this rare opportunity to pass by without very careful investigation. Understand this great work embodies all the features 
of a complete dictionary, and a thorough encyclopedia. The work has been adopted as a text-book by many schools and 
colleges, and is regarded as authority wherever the English language is spoken. The new, revised, enlarged, 
and entirely up to the times 


Encyclopaedic Dictionary 


the regular price of which is from $42 .to *70, is now offered to all readers of this paper for the insignificant sum of 7 
cents per day, in monthly payments of $2 each, until the sum of $16 is paid. This is but little more than one-third 
the regular price of the four magnificent volumes as represented in the picture. 

This greatest of all dictionaries and encyclopedias was edited by such world-renowned scholars as 

DR. ROB’T HUNTER, A.M., F.G.S., PROFS. HUXLEY, MORRIS. HF.RRTAGE, ESTOCLET, WILLIAMS, Etc. 



The above illustration is an exact repro- 
duction of the four magnificent volumes of 
The Encyclopedic Dictionary. They are 
bound in rich, silk cloth, with gilt back stamp, handsomely embossed sides, and 
marbled edges Each volume 9 inches wide, \\y 2 inches long, 3 inches thick. 
Contains 5,357 pages, 3,000 illustrations, Weight, about 40 pounds. 


assisted by scores of othqr specialists in 
various branches of knowledge. 

Over 17 years and $750,000.00 
required in th^ production of this 
Magnificent Monument of Educa- 
tion . 

It is a Complete Dictionary of the 

English language. Every word is ex- 
haustively treated as to its origin, history, 
development, etymology, pronunciation, 
and various other meanings. 

It is a Thorough Encyclopedia of 
anatomy, botany, chemistry, zbology, 
geology, art, music, agriculture, physics, 
philosophy, mechanics, ‘history, myth- 
ology, biblical knowledge, etc. 

It'is a Superb Library Book, sub- 
stantially bound, printed from new plates, 
in large, clear type, on heavy white paper, 
and illustrated with thousands of new 
pictures made especially for this work. 

It is better than all other diction- 
aries, because the latest edition of Wor- 
cester contains but 116,000 words, and 
2,126 pages; the latest Webster contains 
but 140,000 words and 2.011 pages; the 
Standard contains but a little over 200,000 
words and 2,318 pages, and even the Cen- 
tury contains but 225,000 words and sells 
for $60 to $100. Encyclopedias of various 
kinds sell for $50 to $200. This great 
ENCYCLOPAEDIC DICTIONARY, 
containing 5,357 pages, over 3,000 illus- 
trations, bound in four handsome vol- 
umes, has over 250,000 words, 50,000 en- 
cyclopedic subjects, and it is sold on such 
easy terms everybody can buy it without 
financial inconvenience. 


WHAT GOOD JUDGES SAY ABOUT THE WORK : 

“ I prize highly ‘ The Encyclopsedic Dictionary’ for the number of words it contains, for accuracy of definitions, for full- 
ness of illustrations, and encyclopedic comprehensiveness. Bishop Samuel Fallows, Chicago, 111.” 

“ I consider * The Encyclopaedic Dictionary’ superior to Webster, Worcester, Century, or Standard. For the busy lawyer 
who wants to know things quickly, no better reference book could be had. 

“ Benjamin F. Hughes, Attorney and ex-State Senator, Philadelphia.” 

“ I have Webster, Worcester, and the Century, and for encyclopedias I have the Brittannica and Appleton’s. It is but 
simple truth to say that ‘ The Encyclopaedic Dictionary’ is a magnificent substitute for all of them. 

“ J. H. Atwood, Attorney, Leavenworth, Kan.” 

Satisfaction Guaranteed or money refunded if books are returned within ten days. 

DON’T FORGET this special offer holds good for a short time only. The price will be gradually increased until 
it reaches $42 to $70 per set, and no discounts will then be allowed. It is not for sale in bookstores, and can only be obtained 
from us or our authorized representative. 

HOW TO GET TH|S GREAT WORK. —Send $2 by post-office order, express order, or check, and the en- 
tire four handsome volumes will be forwarded. Every month thereafter send $2 in the same manner, until the sum of $16 
is paid. Understand the whole set of 4 volumes is sent when the first $2 is paid, thus you have the use of them while 
paying the balance, at the rate of 7 cents per day. All freight or express charges must be paid by purchaser. We refer 
to any commercial agency, or any bank in Philadelphia. Any one wishing to pay cash for the complete set, may deduct 
10 per cent., and send $14.40. This allowance is practically the cost of keeping the account if purchased on easy terms. 
Address, 

Pamphlet of 8o specimen pages free on receipt of 6 cts. to pay postage. 


Syndicate Publishing Co., ^uwpa 

36 


Please mention 
this magazine. 


LIPPINCOTTS MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 



To give you some idea how 


is from all other lamps, wegive 
the No. 2 burner photographed exact size ; 
are these draft holes likely to get filled 
up to endanger your life ? 

We cannot tell you here why there is no climb= 
ingot the flame, no soiling table ^covers, no 
breaking of chimney springs, no running 
over in Ailing, etc. ; but our new Catalogue will 
— and give other important information which 
every lamp user ought to know — free for the 
asking — but mention this publication. 

Don’t jeopardize the life of your family 
as we can supply new fonts to fit your old un- 
satisfactory and unsafe lamps. 

Don’t mistake and think we are advertising a burner ; this 
illustration shows that part only of the central draft Bridge- 
port “ New” Rochester Lamps— the Catalogue explains 
everything you want to know ; send for it non, please. 


Bridgeport Brass Co., 


entirely different the 

Bridgeport 

‘New’ Rochester 


20th Century 

BICYCLE HEADLIGHT. 

ALUMINUM, 6 oz. BRONZE, 8 oz. NICKEL, 9 oz. 


DETACHABLE BICYCLE SPRING. 



LOCOMOTIVE 

Reflector 

FOR CARRIAGES 
AND 

SMALL YACHTS. 


The Greatest Light on Wheels. 


TESTIMONIALS GALORE. 


BETTS PATENT HEADLIGHT CO., 10 Warren St., N.Y. 




A 

poor "wheel 
is like a poor 
"horse — it costs more 
than it’s worth to keep 
it. In the Monarch the 
'necessity of repair has been re- 
duced to a minimum. Its strength, 
Tightness and beauty make it a marvel 
"of modern mechanical skill. The 

MONARCH 


is undoubtedly king of bicycles. A wheel 
that you can depend upon in any emer- 
gency. Made in 4 models. $85 and. 

$ 100. Send for the Monarch book. 
MONARCH CYCLE MFG, CO., 

Lake and Halsted Sts., 

Chicago. 

Branches— New York, 

San Francisco, Port- 
land, Salt Lake 
City, Denver, 

Memphis, 

Detroit 
Toron 
to. 


37 






LIP PIN CO TT' 8 MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 



The Model 
Railroad 
iiof America 


Perfect Construction, 
Superb Equipment, 
Able Management. 


THE LINE BETWEEN 

Philadelphia and New York 

is conceded by eminent railway authorities to be the finest 
piece of railroad in America. 


the: royal route: 

BETWEEN 

Philadelphia^Atlantic City 

is famed for the quick and efficient movement of its trains. 


THE READING is the favorite route for all points in 
Interior Pennsylvania. 

1. A. SWEIQARD, C. G. HANCOCK, 

General Superintendent. General Passenger Agent. 


LIPPINCOTTS MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


Charles Helmetag. 


John E. Martin. 




The Hover Sofa-Bed Co. 


Send or call for Catalogue. 


235 S. Second 

Takes all apart. 

Cannot close of itself. 


Street, Philadelphia. 


The “ Hover” 

is the only Sofa-Bed in the world that combines healthfulness, 
cleanliness, convenience, and absolute safety and comfort. 



VISITORS TO NEW YORK 

Seeking comfort, quiet, and an elegant home will find the 

Westipioster Hotel, 

Sixteenth Street and Irving Place, 

NEW YORK, 

Replete with every modern convenience and comfort. Mod- 
erate tariff. Location one block east of Union Square. Con- 
venience of Broadway, without its noise. Accessible to all 
Railways, Ferries, the Shopping Centre, and Places of 
Amusement. 

AMERICAN PLAN, $3.50 per day and upwards. 

E. N. ANABLE, Proprietor. 


THE TROPICS. 

NASSAU. CUBA. MEXICO. 

THE MOST FAMOUS HEALTH AND 
PLEASURE RESORTS IN THE WEST 
INDIES AND GULF OF MEXICO. 

The steamers of the New York and Cuba Mail Steamship 
Company (Ward Line) leave New York for Nassau, San- 
tiago, and Cienfuegos every other Thursday ; for Havana 
and Mexican Ports every Wednesday and Saturday. 

NASSAU is reached in seventy hours. It is the sanita- 
rium of the Western Hemisphere, with an equable winter 
climate of 70° to 80°, and a variation of not over 5° in 
twenty-four hours. Malaria, rheumatism, kidney and 
lung troubles speedily benefited and often cured. The 
Royal Victoria is the best hotel in the West Indies. Excel- 
lent physicians and direct cable to the United States. 

HAVANA is the Paris of the Tropics. The Cuban win- 
ter is genial and the nights cool. The most delicate invalid 
who can travel at all will find Cuba restful and beneficial 

MEXICO offers with the least discomfort a variety of 
climate that should please tourist or invalid. There is 
much to interest and learn within the borders of our sister 
republic. 

The steamers are new, full-powered steel ships, that offer 
all the luxury and safety of travel, and are lighted by 
electricity. 

For all information, beautiful pamphlets, maps, climatic 
tables, etc. (free on application), apply to 

JAMES E. WARD & CO., 

113 WALL STREET, NEW YORK. 


39 


THE PENNSYLVANIA COMPANY 

FOR INSURANCES ON LIVES AND 
GRANTING ANNUITIES, 

No. 517 CHESTNUT STREET, 

INCORPORATED MARCH 10, 1812. 
CHARTER PERPETUAL. 

(TRUST AND SAFE DEPOSIT CO.) 

CAPITAL $2,000,000 

SURPIjUS 2,000,000 

Chartered to act as EXECUTOR, ADMINISTRA- 
TOR, TRUSTEE, GUARDIAN, ASSIGNEE, COM- 
MITTEE, RECEIVER, AGENT, etc.; and for the 
faithful performance of all such duties all its Capital 
and Surplus are liable. 

ALL TRUST INVESTMENTS ARE KEPT 
SEPARATE AND APART FROM THE ASSETS 
OF THE COMPANY. 

INCOME COLLECTED AND REMITTED. 


INTEREST ALLOWED ON MONEY DEPOSITS. 


SAFES IN ITS BURGLAR-PROOF VAULTS 
FOR RENT. 


The protection of its Vaults for the preservation 
of WILLS offered gratuitously. 

Gold and Silver-Plate, Deeds, Mortgages, etc., re- 
ceived for safe-keeping under guarantee. 


HENRY N. PAUL, PRESIDENT. 

JARVIS MASON, Trust Officer. 

L. C. CLEEMANN, Ass’t Trust Officer. 
JOHN J. R. CRAVEN, SECRETARY. 

C S. W. PACKARD, TREASURER. 

WM. L. BROWN, Ass’T Treasurer. 


DIEECTOES. 


Lindley Smyth, 

Henry N. Paul, 
Alexander Biddle, 
Anthony J. Antelo, 
Charles W. Wharton, 
Edward H. Coates, 


John R. Fell, 
William W. Justice, 
Craige Lippincott, 
Edward S. Buckley, 
Beauveau Borie. 
Eugene Delano. 


Edward Morrell. 



WITH THE WITS. 


Adding Insult to Injury; or, The Juggler’s Joke. 



Snake-Charmer. — “Ah, Mozambique, it seemeth good that we should re- 
hearse awhile ; but, 


40 



LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 




Christmas Thoughts ” 


THIS BOOKLET 5? ntains many suggestions for 

Christmas Gifts and particulars 

of price. A copy will be mailed upon request. 


Diamonds , 
Precious Stones , 
Gold Jewelry , 
Watches , 
Bronzes, 

Clocks , 
Porcelains , 
Lamps 


Statuary , 

Glass , 

Leather Goods , 
Fans , 
Umbrellas , 
Stationery, 
Opera Glasses, 
Canes, 


Silverware , for Fable — Toilet — Desk . 

PATRONS resic *ing at a distance may have sent to 

— them an assortment of Christmas Gifts, lj.~- 

upon approval, at the Company’s risk. '/ 

CHRISTMAS THOUGHTS 

contains full particulars. When ordering a copy please mention 

u Lippincott’s.” 

The Bailey, Banks & Biddle Co*, 

PHILADELPHIA. 



>{4* 4 . 4 . 4 . 4 . 4 . 4 . 4 . 4 * 4* 4* *4* *4* a? 


4* 

4 * 

4» 

4 * 

4 * 

4* 

4 * 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4» 

4» 

4» 

4* 

4* 

4» 

4* 

4» 

4* 

4» 

4* 


365 Days 
a Year 

you wear a collar 
button. There’s 
comfort, conveni- 
ence and satisfac- 
tion in wearing 
“ The Benedict. ” 
Sold by all Jewelers and 
Outfitters. 

Enos Richardson & Co., 23 Maiden 
Lane, N. Y., Sole Manufacturers. 

Send for Circular. 



SIDE VIEW. 


4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 

4* 




Selvyt: 


BRAND 


Polishing Cloths 


Now being sold by all 
leading stores through- 
out the country, at 10 
cents upwards, accord- 
ing to size. They en- 
tirely do away with the 
necessity for buying 



expensive wash or 
chamois leathers, 
which they out-polish 
and out-wear, never be- 
come greasy, and are 
as good as new when 
washed. 

Y// For sale by all Dry- 

'(/l Goods Stores, Upholster- 
ers, Hardware and Drug 
Stores, Cycle Dealers, etc. 


and 383 Broadway, N. V. 


41 


WITH THE WITS. 


Adding Insult to Injury ; or, The Juggler’s Joke.— Continued. 



by the shade of Allamaguirk, this intruder would work us ill, and it be- 
hooves us to retire to a safer place, where 

42 



LIPP1N CO TT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


Sterling Silver by Mail. 

Direct from the Manufacturers. 

D O you want any article in Sterling Silver (warranted fine) for your- 
self, for a wedding present, a birthday gift, or for any possible use? 

New designs in flat and hollow table-ware, toilet goods, articles for the 
work-basket, the pocket, the desk, for children, cut glass with sterling mount- 
ings, etc., etc. Any want in Sterling Silver we can fill; and, selling direct, we 
save you the retailer’s profit. 

The handsome Sterling-Silver “ Trilby Heart” Locket illustrated is given as 
a sample of our prices. Locket, size of cut, we will send, post-paid, for $2.25 ; 
a smaller size for $1.50, and a larger size for $2.75. 

Give us an idea of your wants, and we will send illustrated catalogues and prices. 

BAIRD=NORTH CO., Silversmiths, 

Salem, Mass. (Dept. F). 





The New Rochester 

HAS THE BEST WICK HOLDER ; No soiled fingers when 
rewicking. THE BEST Oil. INDICATOR; No oil running over 
when filling. THE BEST CHIMNEY TIFT; No burnt fingers or 
broken shades when lighting. 

The New Rochester Parlor Heater 


Thoroughly “ UP TO DATE.” Burns without a chimney. Can be lighted 
w ithout removing drum. It burns 12 hours and will heat a room 15x15 for 
one cent an hour. 

Lamps in China, Glass and Metal in every conceivable design and finish. 
One burner— three sizes. 

Lamp or Heater complete as shown, sent securely packed to any address on 

receipt of $5.50. „ 

If the lamps kept by your dealer do not bear the “NEW ROCHES- 
TER” stamp a Catalogue mailed free to those mentioning this publication. 

The Rochester Lamp Co., 42 Park Place & 37 Barclay St, New York 



Height 
I28K ins. 


HOW OFTEN 


DO YOU LOSE 
YOUR KNIFE? 


Once usually — then it’s gone for 
good. Not so with our 


Novelty Knife 



It tells the finder 
who you are and 
where you can be 
found, also identi- 
fies you in case of 


accident. The handle is made of an indestructible, 
transparent composition, more beautiful than pearl. 
Beneath the handles are placed your name and ad- 
dress, photo of mother or friend, society emblems, 
celebrities, etc. Blades are hand forged from the finest 
razor steel, workmanship perfect and a printed war- 
ranty is sent with each knife. 

Two bladed knife, men’s, $1 to $1.75, 3 blades $1.50to 
$2.60, 2 bladed, boys’, 75 cents, ladies $1 to $1.75. For 
each photo 25 cents additional. Handsome Christmas 
ore 9 ents. Catalogue free. Send cash with order. 


Agents Wanted. Address retail department. 

NOVELTY CUTLERY CO., Box 1Q7. Canton, O. 


cnnn Pieces of Sheet Music at 10 cents a copy. Also, 
DUUU any music published sent on receipt of the retail 
price Violin, Guitar, Banjo, and Mandolin Strings, of all 
grades, from 5 to 50 cents each. Send two-cent stamp for cat- 
alogues. In ordering anything, by sending 5 cents additional, 
we will send free of charge a sample copy of The New St. 
Louis, a 10-cent magazine. Address H. H. BARNES, 

2819 Olive Street, St. Louis, Mo. 


UVDkinTICM original method, $2.00. 100-page 
nTrNU I lolVI book, 10c. One on Personal Magnet- 
ism, 10c. Prof. Anderson, L. M„ 9 Masonic Temple, Chicago. 



ECLIPSE 


CYCLES. 


LIGHT, BEAUTIFUL, EASY-RUNNING. 


THEY STAND THE TEST." 


ROADSTERS, RACER, LADIES', AND TANDEM. 


Send for Catalog. Free to all. 

NO OTHER CYCLES HAVE ECLIPSE IMPROVEMENTS. 

Agents wanted in unoccupied territory. 


Eclipse Bicycle Co., 

Beaver Falls, Pa. Indianapolis, Ind. Hamilton, Canada, 


P a ■ | If Ain CURED without med* 

IlKllSYXIX icine ‘ Rheumatism’ 

HIIHk I Spinal Diseases and 

mnHHiHn Dropsy easily cured. 
For a valuable book FREE to all. Address, 
Dr. C. 1. TllACUEK. 1401 Masonic Temple, Chicago. 



AIR0REMOVED 


vao mm s i wiib i wmii mu p bmbmi 

Permanently, root and branch, in 5 minutes, withont pain, 
discoloration or injury with “ Pilla Sol vene.” Sealed 
particulars, Gc. Wilcox Specific Co., Philo.. Pa. 


43 


LIPP1N CO TT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


* 


SAFEST 




40^ 


FASTEST 


TRAINS IN THE 
WORLD 


FINEST 



ARE THE 



Jloyal flue Jjine Trains 


BETWI 


IM 


NEW YORK, 
BALTIMORE, 


PHILADELPHIA, 

WASHINGTON, 


RUNNINGS VIA 


Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. 


All trains are Vestibuled from end to end, Heated by Steam, Lighted by PIntsch Gas, 
Protected by Pullman’s Anti-Telesooping Device, and operated under 
Perfected Block Signal System. 



"•Baltimore & Ohio Railroad 


Maintains a complete Service of Vestibuled 
Express Trains between 


NEW YORK, 

CINCINNATI, 

. LOUIS, 

AND CHICAGO, 


EQUIPPED WITH 


Pullman Palace Sleeping Cars, 


Running Through Without Change. 


ALL B. A 0. TRAINS 


BETWEEN THE 


East^Westi^Washington. 


PRINCIPAL OFFICES : 


211 Washington St., Boston, Mass. 

415 Broadway, New York. 

N. E. Cor. 9th and Chestnut Sts., Phila., Pa. 

Cor. Baltimore and Calvert Sts., Baltimore, Md. 


R. B. CAMPBELL, 

General Manager. 


vu/ mtn st., jn.w., cor. in. y. Ave., wasningw -n n 
Cor. Wood St. and Fifth Ave., Pittsburg, ’ ’ 

Cor. Fourth and Vine Sts., Cincinnati, O 
193 Clark St., Chicago, 111. f * 

105 North Broadway, St. Louis, Mo. 


} Baltimore, Md. { CHA \°; a f P ?^ LL - 


44 


. aasenger Agent. 


LIPPINCOTT’S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 






I 

V 

X 

H 

X 

u 

¥ 

H 

X 

u 

u 

u 

¥ 

X 

u 

H 

X 

¥ 

X 

u 

u 

¥ 

¥ 

H 

U 

¥ 



An Oxygen 
Home Remedy 
Without Medicine. 


160 Fifth Ave., N. Y., April 5, 1895. 

“ * * * My .confidence in the merits of the 
Electropoise — simple, convenient, economical 
and effective as it is — has constantly grown 
with my increasing observation and experi- 
ence.” w. H. DePuy, A.M., D.D., LL.D. 

(Editor Peoples’ Cyclopaedia.) 


Often Cures 
Cases 

Pronounced 

“Incurable’ 


ii 


How? 


99 


Write us for booklet 
that tells all about 

the Electropoise. 

Mailed free. 


Electrolibration Co., 1122 Broadway, New York 
346 Fulton Street, Brooklyn. 



aaB 11 B 






Manufactory Established 1761. 


LEAD PENCILS, COLORED PENCILS, SLATE PENCILS, WRITING SPATES, 
STEEL PENS, GOLD PENS, INKS, PENCIL CASES IN SILVER AND 
IN GOLD. STATIONERS’ RUBBER GOODS, RULERS, 

COLORS AND ARTISTS’ MATERIALS. 


78 Reade Street, - - New York, N. Y. 


MANUFACTORY ESTABLISHED 1761. 
GOODS SOLD BY ALL STATIONERS. 




Perfume the Breath, 


_ \NIIX EASE THE THROAT FROM 
r SLIGHT COUGH HOARSENESS, 
CLEAR and STRENGTHEN THE VOICE, 
people of refinement for over 25^^ lit 

iHealtl 


5 fcl 0 ds TRDCMTaCa FrA rtrA nt 

uT^sxs ROCHESTER.N.Y iTAQrAlll 


rnmsinl music box^;s“' 

Tunes Unlimited. See! Hear It! 

LANTERNS WANTED , AB “- EO » SA, E 


MAGIC 


OK EXCIIANOK 
HARBACH & CO.. 809 Filbert St., Philada., Pa. 


45 




WITH THE WITS. 


Adding Insult to Injury; or, The Juggler’s Joke.— Continued. 



we may continue our rehearsal 

46 




LIPPIN CO TT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 



BARBOUR’S 

Prize Needlework Series, No. 4. 

Just Issued — 150 Pages — Profusely Illustrated. 

'VTEW and Practical information about the Latest Designs in 
AN Lace Making, Embroidery and Needlework in Barbour’s 
Prize Needlework Series, No. 4. 

150 pages— with illustrations, all of actual working designs— 
the personal contributions of the brightest needleworkers from 
all parts of the country— several Color Plates— Lace Curtains 
illustrated— and all made with Barbour’s Threads. 

Book, No. 4 , mailed to any address on receipt oi 10 cents. 

THE BARBOUR BROTHERS COMPANY, 

New York. Boston. Philadelphia. Chicago. Cincinnati. 
St. Louis. San Francisco. 


TURKISH 

Towels 



A big Turkish towel— not too harsh— 
affords the most refreshing rub after the 
bath. We have just the right kind; 
they are 22 by 45 inches in size, and are 
made of undressed double yarn. Shrewd 
buying enables us to sell them at the 
remarkably low price of 

18 Cents Each, 

Or Two for 35 Cents . 

We pay the postage. 

STRAWBRIDGE & CLOTHIER, 

Dry Goods. Philadelphia. 



After the beady, 
sparkling draught, 
— who wants the 
dregs ? — The DB= 
LONG Patent Hook 
and Eye is the 
original. 


See that 


hump? 


\X((\ Richardson 

& De Long Bros., 
eyZl Philadelphia. 


m 


1 




A brand of the 
famous 



BIAS 
VELVETEEN 
SKIRT BINDINGS 

that “ last as long as the skirt.” 

Send for samples, showing labels and material, 
to the SH.&M, Co-, PO. Box 699, New York City. 

“S.H.&M.” Dress Stays are the Best. 


47 


LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


To Keep on the 

Crest of the Wave 




'OME of us have visited the seashore 
this summer and have seen the men 
who man the surf boats watch for a 
big wave to “come in on.” Just as it 
reaches them they begin a quick, vigorous pull, that keeps 
them on the wave and lands them high and dry on the shore. 

There’s a wave of prosperity just now ready to bear 
to success many a business venture, but quick, strong 
pulling is necessary in the shape cf 
judicious advertising to keep the boat 
on the wave. As it takes skilled men 
to man the surf boats, so it takes 
men of experience and skill to adver- 
tise a business. Expenditure through 
an advertising agency is the cheapest and surest way to 
keep on the crest of the wave, and the Lyman D. Morse 
Advertising Agency has complete equipment, the highest 
skill and long experience to offer advertisers. 

The wave of prosperity is at hand. We are ready 
to pull. 



38 PARK ROW 
(Potter Building) 

NEW YORK 


Lyman D. Morse 
Advertising Agency 


48 


LIP PIN CO TT S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 



BEAUTY 



Ladies express daily their gratification at the 
grand results obtained by the use of Dr. Camp- 
bell’s Safe Arsenic Complexion Wafers and 
Fould’s Arsenic Soap, the only real truebeau- 
tifiers in the world. Guaranteed perfectly 
harmless. Wafers by mail, $1 ; six large boxes, 
$5. Soap, 50c. per cake. Address all orders to 
H. B. FOULD, 214 Sixth Ave., New York City. 

SOLD BY DRUGGISTS EVERYWHERE. 



Featherbone 

For Waists, Sleeves 
and Skirts 

Instruction free. Call at our Parlors — 
833 Broadway, New York 
185 Wabash Avenue, Chicago 
40 West Street, Boston 
1113 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia 
Send 65c. for 12-yard sample Skirt Bone. 
Warren Featherbone Co. 
Three Oaks, Mich. 



DEAFNESS 

and Head Noises relieved by using 1 
Wilson’s Common Sense Ear Drums. 

New scientific invention; different 
from all other devices. The only safe, 
simple, comfortable and invisible 
Ear Drum In the world. HelDS where 
medical skill fails. No wire or string 
attachment. Write for pamphlet. 
WILSON EAR DRUM CO., 

j 14 7 Trust Bldg., Louisville, Ky. 
u es. | JJ.J2 Broadway, JV'ew York. 


D. L. Dowd’s Health Exerciser 

For Gentlemen, Ladies, Youths ; athlete or 
invalid. Complete gymnasium ; takes 6 in. 
of floor-room; new, scientific, durable, 
cheap. Indorsed by 100,000 physicians, 
lawyers, clergymen, editors, and others 
now using it. Illustrated circular, 40 en- 
gravings, free. Address D. L. DOWD, Sci- 
entific, Physical, and Vocal Culture, 9 East 
14th Street, New York. 



DIXON’S 679 

Graphite 

LUBRICANT 


on your bicycle chain 
will prevent wear and 
give you greater speed 
with less effort. Sample 
mailed for 12 cents. 
Jos. Dixon Crucible 
Co. Jersey City, N.J. 


“ideal SPRING BEDS.” 

Our booklet, “ Wide-Awake Facts about Sleep,” illustrating 
and describing our Ideal Spring Beds, together with an up- 
to-date pocket map of your State, sent on receipt of three 
two-cent stamps. Poster Bros. Mfg. Co., 10 Clay St., Utica, N.Y. 



A GRAND OFFER. 


Mine. A. Rnperl’s Face Bleach. 

MME. A. RUPPERT says : “ Know- 
ing that there are tens of thousands 
of ladies in the United States who are 
afflicted with Poor Complexions, 
FRECKLES. Pimples, BLACK- 
HEADS, Oily Skin, etc., who are 
more than anxious to get rid of 
these hideous disfigurements and 
would gladly try my Face Bleach, 
but have had some hesitancy in 
spending $2 for a bottle (or three 
bottles for $5) to prove its wonderful 
merit. In order to prove to these 
ladies that FACE BLEACH is all I 
claim for it, and that it will remove 
absolutely every disfigurement of the 
complexion. I will sell to every caller 
a trial bottle for 25 cts., and to those living outside the city, 
in any part of the world, I will send a trial bottle, safely 
packed, plain wrapper, all charges prepaid for 25 cts., silver 
or stamps. 

I hope that every lady in the land will embrace this 
generous offer at once. My book, “ How to be Beautiful,” 
FREE. Call or send for it. Address all communications or 
call on MME. A. RUPPERT (Dept. Three). 6 East I4th St., 
New York City. Western Office, 235 State St., Chicago, Ills. 



RESTORE YOUR EYESIGHT. 

Hundreds convinced. Cataracts can be absorbed. Dis- 
eased eyes or lids said to be incurable cured at our Sanitari- 
um (or by mail). The most humane and successful 
treatment In the world. No knife or risk. Pamphlet 
free, and should be in every family. “ Don’t miss it.” 

Address SANITARIUM, Glens Falls, N. Y. 


A Complete Health Guide 

Mrs. L. N. A.; “If I knew I 
was to be the mother of in- 
numerable children it would have no terrors for me, so 
great is my confidence in the science of TOKOLOGY. 
I cured myself of local troubles of the worst kind.” 



Sample pages free. Best Terms to Agents. Prepaid, $2.75. 

ALICE B. ST00KHAM & CO., 277 Madison Street, Chicago. 


NO MORE GRAY HAIR 

BBUCELINE, the only genuine remedy for restoring gray hair 
to its natural color ; no dye and harmless. Thousands of 
Testimonials. $1.00 per bottle. Druggists or Bruceline Co., 
377 Sixth Avenue, New York. Treatise on the hair sent on 
application, FREE. 


ARNICA 


TOOTH 
SOAP 


__ .BY FAR THE BEST 

dentifrice; antiseptic — harmless — effective. No soapy taste. A 
trial will make you its lasting friend. Substitutes are not “as 
good.” All druggists or by mail 25c. O. H. Strong & Co., Chicago. 


49 



WITH THE WITS. 


Adding Insult to Injury ; or, The Juggler’s Joke. — Continued. 



undisturbed, as it were: see?’ 
50 





LIPPINCOTTS MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 




(OCOA%COLATE£ 

.For E&itog & DnnKiixj 

Purity of Material 
xT Deliciousness of 
flavo r Unexce lled j 

fer§ale atour&ores & by (jrocers l 



the popular game 

“ Chevy =Chase,” 

For the Young and Old. 
Instructive and Entertaining. 

For good, solid amusement and entertaining, there is no 
game more fitting than “ Chevy =Chase.” Sold by all 
dealers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of $1.00. 

Hamilton & Myers, Pub., Middletown, Pa. 



AGGRESSIVE EUCHRE PLAYERS 

Ask your Stationer for 

“THE CORRECT” SCORE MARKER. 

It pleases everybody. , ■ ^ 

,klet free. W. E. BULKELEY. Cleveland, O. 


The Best Home Game 


Adapted for either Children or Adnlts. 



The Royal Game of India. 


No household complete, 

No home happy without it. 


No Parlor-Table Game has ever been published which 
has had so great a sale. For twenty years the best families 
have had it in their homes, and so enjoyed it that now it is 
always called for when the question arises, “ What shall we 
plav ?” 

The best game ever published. Sold by leading Book, 
Stationery, Toy, and Department Stores in the United States, 
or mailed, postpaid, by 

SELCHOW & RIGHTER, 390 Broadway, N.Y. 


51 


tiled, postpaid 






WITH THE WITS. 


Adding Insult to Injury ; or, The Juggler’s Joke. — Continued. 



Leo. — “ Well, I’ll be blowed ! if this ain’t what I call 

52 


LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 




ris&r 

0°oo°o 


,/aOo 
O oO 


'£.coqomy Combined 

a- -g >r> <a , -yG> o@==T?ri$ 


Hydraulio, Passenger and Freight. 

Electrio Passenger and Freight. 

Patent Steel Screw Belt Passenger and Freight. 
Patent Spur Gear Freight, Hand and Sidewalk. 

NEW YORK, ROSTON, 

#2 and 94 Liberty Street. 53 State Street. 

DETROIT, ATLANTA, Ga., 

Hedges Building. Inman Building, 

PHILADELPHIA, 

““ F “ bert jSENDFORAcSgtggg 


=000= 



Where 
It 5s Put 


This can only be said o £ 
a shade mounted on a 

SELF-ACTING 

HARTSHORN 

SHADE 

ROLLER 

Every housewife knows 
the importance of this, 
and should insist on get- 
ting the Hartshorn. 


Look for STEWART HARTSHORN’S autograph on label. 



SELF-ACTING 

SHADE ROU. IRS, 


3 


NOTICE °* '• 

AUTOCRAPH./V Xd'* r ~LABEL 
OF — ^WcTNmNE 



^HARTSHORN) 



ACME CAKE BEATER, 
Price, $1.00. 


SPECIAL OFFER 


ACME CAKE BEATER. 
prioe, Si. oo. 


Bents a Cake in one minute. 


The most wonderful invention of the period. 

NO DISHES AND SPOONS TO CLEAN! NO TIRED BACK AND ARMS! 


Nine Ladies out of every ten will buy our ACME CAKE BEATER if shown and explained 
to them. Mixes cakes of any kind with one operation from ordinary griddle cakes to the 
finest fancy cake in one minute. So simple and practical that people wonder why it was not 
thought of before. With it a child can make cake equal to a grown person. 

To introduce it quickly where we have no agent WE WILL SEND FOR 50 CENTS, 
silver, — well wrapped, — stamps, or money-order, ONE ACME CAKE BEATER, with recipes 
and full instructions. If you afterwards order a dozen beaters you may deduct the 50 cents 
and you have your 

SAMPLES FREE1 

Or we will return your 50 cents if you get us an agent who will order a dozen Beaters. Better 
still, GET UP A CLUB of 12 neighbors and friends and send us $5.00 for a dozen Beaters, 
which sell for $12.00, making a clear profit of §7.00 for a few hours’ or an evening’s work. One 
lady sold 11 in one hour. Another agent 16 in Iwo hours and a half. Another secured a club 
of 12 in one evening. One man sells $12.00 worth every day. Full particulars sent for stamp. 

BUTLER MEG. CO., 5 70, CHICAGO. 


Wooden Handle. Price 75 cents. 

Until the Christy came, Bread Knives had always been made with 
a straight blade. But the wavy, scolloped edge is so much better, 
does the work so much easier, that no housekeeper, having once tried 
the Christy, would go back to the old style. It cuts hot, new bread 
as thin as old; cuts cake without crumbs, and meat without shreds. 
It was exhibited at the World's Fair as the Model Bread Knife of the 
day. Miss Corson, Mrs Ewing, Mrs. Rorer, and other eminent au- 
thorities constantly recommend them. Our new '95 Model, shown 
above, is the latest pattern, and has a wooden handle. Sold by 
dealers everywhere. Sent by mail, on receipt of 75 cents. 

CHRISTY KNIFE CO., Box M, Fremont, O. 



CHRISTY KNIVES 

HAVE THIS STAMP 
ON THE BLADE- < 

CHRISTY KNIFE CO 

PATCNTIO 

FREMONT, 0 

BEWARE OF 
IMITATIONS Tf 


53 




LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


GET THE BEST. 

The extraordinary sale and 
continued popularity of the 

Paul E. Wirt Fountain Pen 

is positive proof that the long-felt want of a writing 
public for a practical and satisfactory writing instru- 
ment has at last been supplied. 

The Standard. Over One Million Sold. 

Send for Catalogue. BLOOMSBURG, PA. 


“The name of the WHITING PAPER COMPANY on a box of sta- 
tionery is a guarantee of excellence.” 

WHAT'S IN A NAME? 

A great deal. For instance, if you see Whiting’s name on a box 
of stationery, you at once rest assured that the box contains the 
paper which the best society has decreed must be used in polite 
correspondence, and which is made by the Whiting Paper Company, Holyoke, Mass., 
and New York. For over a quarter of a century this Company has been making papers 
which have met the most exacting requirements of the best society everywhere. All 
stationers have them. 

WHITING PAPER COMPANY, 

Holyoke, New York, Philadelphia, Chicago. 



LIPPINCOTT’S 



Steel pens 


LEADING STYLES: 


No. 50, Falcon ; No. 51, Bank; No. 52, Commer- 
cial; No. 59, Premium; No. 60, School; No. 62, 
Ladies* Falcon; No. 72, Carbon ; No. 66, Universal; 
No. 67, Engrossing; No. 68, Lawyer’s; No. 73, Fal- 
con Stub. 

75c. per Gross. 

Ask your Stationer for them or send to 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, Philadelphia. 
Send IO cents for sample dozen. 


ESTABLISHED 1846. 


FRANKLIN 

PRINTING INK WORKS 

JOHN WOODRUFF’S SONS, 

1217 and 1219 Cherry St., Philadelphia, Pa. 



This Magazine is printed with John Woodruff’s Sons’ Inks. 


LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


Rubbing 

was necessary in 
using: Aladdin's Won- 
derful Lamp— but 


Soapme 


The Wonderful Wash- 
ing: Powder, will bring: 
you good fortune 

Without 

Rubbing, 


At night, put your clothes to soak with Soapine, according to directions, and in the morning 
you will find the hard part of your washing done. It does your work through the night 
while you rest. Magical in effect. Perfectly safe to use. 


A Whale on Every Package. 


It is KENDALL MFG. CO.’S Trade Mark. 

Established 1827. PROVIDENCE, R. I. 



The Lawton 
Simplex Printer 



saves time and labor — money, too. 100 
letters, postal cards, copies of music, draw- 
ings, or typewritten copy, in almost no 
time, and exact copies at that, by using 
the Lawton Simplex. Requires no wash- 
ing or cleaning, and saves its cost over 
and again in sending out notices. Costs 
but little ($3.00 to $10.00). 

Caution. — Other things are being made and called 
Simplex Printers. The only way to be sure of getting the 
genuine is to see that yours is the Lawton Simplex Printer. 
Send for circulars. Agents wanted. 


LAWTON & CO., 20 Vesey St., New York. 



Marshall’s 
Catarrh 

b n Ulf never 

been equalled for the 
instant relief of Ca- 
arrh, Cold in the Head, and Headache. Cures Deafness, 
estores lost sense of smell. Sixty years on the market. All 
)ruggists sell it. 25c. per bottle. F. C. KEITH, Mfr., Cleveland, 0. 


Excessive Sweating feet. 

Sample Size of Cure in Plain, Sealed Envelope. 10 cents. 

LAZZARETTE REMEDY CO., Unadilla, N. Y. 

GANGER 

Private Sanitarium, 
experience. 80 per cen 
page book free. L. D. 1 
1021 Masonic Temple. Chicago. 



CURED. 

No knife. 28 years 
t of cases cured. 45 
JcMichael, M. D„ 


Have you been 
satisfied with 
the Playing Cards 
you have been 
using ? There have 
been so many poor 
cards put upon the 
market by new 
makers in the past 
few years, the ques- 
tion is constantly asked, “ WHO 
MAKES THE BEST PLAY- 
ING CARDS?” Old players 
will tell you 



“ ANDREW DOUGHERTY,” 
who has been making cards since 
1848, whose goods are used all 
over the world, and are admitted 
to be the best playing cards made, 
having brands at prices to suit all 
purchasers. 

Andrew Dougherty is not 
connected with any other firm, 
company, or combination. 


■ ■ Prof- 1- HUBERT’S 

Malvina cream 

For ‘Beautifying the Complexion. 
Removes all Freckles, Tan, Sunburn, Pimples, Live* 
Moles, and other imperfections. Not covering but remov- 
ing all blemishes, and permanently restoring the com- 
plexion to its original freshness. For sale at Druggists, o* 
sent postpaid on receipt of 50c. Use Qmf I Uuhori 
MALVINA ICHTHYOL SOAP nUl.I.nUUcIf 
25 Cents a Cake* TOLEDO* 0» 


DEAF 


INESS & HEAD NOISES CURED. 

My Tubular Cushions help when all 
else fails. As glasses help eyes. Whis- 

S ers heard. No pain. inYlsible. F. Hiscox. 853 B*dway 
lew York, sole depo t. Send for book and proofs FREE* 

Qinani PA ALL DISEASES and Im- 
rllni LEOl perfections of the Skin,j 
treated by regular registered specialists. 

JOHN H. WOODBURY, 127 W. 42d St., N. Y. 
Branches: Boston. Phila., Chicago, St. Louis. 

160 page book on the Skin and Scalp, for a stamp. 



55 





WITH THE WITS. 


Adding Insult to Injury; or, The Juggler’s Joke.— Concluded. 



adding insult to injury.” 
56 



LIPPINCOTT’S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 



THb NEW LIFE GIVER. 


The Original Improved Oxydonor “Victory” 
for Self-treatment. Supplies Oxygen to the blood, 
and cures disease and pain under Nature's own 
laws. Applied as in illustration. 

“ Oxygen is Life.” How to increase this 
element in the system was an unsolved problem to 
medical science until Dr. H. Sanche discovered a 
wonderful law of natural forces by the application 
of which oxygen from the air can be supplied in 
any desired quantity. It has been fully tested in 
60,000 cases of all forms of disease. 

General JA MES M. TR UE, of Kansas, III . , writes : 

“ It is a pleasure for me to say that my wife and self 
have been using Dr. H. Sanche’s Oxydon ‘Victory’ 
since January last. We have found great benefit from 
its use. 1 am sincerely yours, 

“Gen. JAMES M. TRUE, 

Brigadier-Gen. under Grant.” 

Large book of information, and latest price-list 
mailed free. 

DR. fl. SANCHE, Discoverer and Inventor, 

261 Fifth Avenue, New York City. 

61 Fifth St., cor. Fort, Detroit, Mich. 



-CINCINNATI- 


Indianapolis . G o .<on , o0 

k-N- Cm c >V T To^ d di 


DETROIT. 


SOLID THROUGH TRAINS BETWEEN 

CINCINNATI, 
TOLEDO s DETROIT. 

Pullman Vestibuled Trains Between 

CINC/NNA Tl, 

INDIANAPOLIS , 

and OH 1C AGO . 


Through Car Lines from Cincinnati via 
Indianapolis to St. Louis ; also 
Cincinnati via Indianapolis to 
Decatur, Springfield, III., 
and Keokuk. 


WM. M. GREENE, 

General Manager, 

CINCINNATI, OHIO. 


D. G. EDWARDS, 

General Pass. Agent, 


5 



RHEUMATISM 

can be cured without internal med- 
icine ; the direct effect of Electro- 
Magnetism is to drive out of the 
system all traces of this troublesome 
enemy. 

Dr. Scott’s 
Electric Belt, 

for men and women, will quickly 
cure Rheumatism, Gout, Liver 
and Kidney trouble, Nervous Debility, Indigestion, 

and kindred complaints. 

Dr. Scott: 

Dear Sir ,— After having suffered for the last two years 
with Muscular Rheumatism in the back, I tried your 
$3.00 Belt, and found it did me a wonderful deal of g’ood. 
I have not slept so well in the last two years as I have 
since I have worn your belt. Yours truly, 

*C. W. Osborn, Minneapolis, Minn. 

Dr. Scott: 

Dear Sir ,— I ordered a $5 00 Belt of you last year for 
my daughter, and I am glad to say she is now well; it 
saved me many dollars, perhaps her life. You may use 
my name in any way you please to push the cause. 

Sincerely yours, 

J. F. McRae, P.M., Magnolia, S. C. 

Standard Belt, 36 Power, $3.00. 

At all druggists’, or sent, post-paid, on receipt of price. 
“The Doctor’s Story,” a valuable book, free. 

GEO. A. SCOTT, 

Room 3, 842 BROADWAY, NEW YORK. 

Quick Sales. Liberal Pay. 
Satisfaction guaranteed 


Agents Wanted. 


THE 


Best Playing Cards 

are those offered by the Burlington 
Route. We will send you, on re- 
ceipt of price, a dozen packs for 
$1.75, or lots of one gross and 
over, for $17.50 per gross. Ex- 
press charges prepaid. These are 
manufacturers’ prices. 


P. S. EUSTIS, 

General Passenger Agent, C. B. & Q. Railroad, 
CHICAGO, ILL. 


57 


LIPPINC0TT8 MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 


Worcester’s Unabridged 

Quarto Dictionary. 

Sheep, marbled edges, $10.00; half Turkey morocco, marbled edges, $12.00 ; half 
Russia, marbled edges, $12.00; half Russia, vermilion edges, $12.50 ; full 
Russia, marbled edges, $16.00 ; full Russia, vermilion edges, $16.50; 
full Turkey, marbled edges, $16.00 ; full Turkey, extra gilt 
edges, $17.00. The above styles with Denison’s 
Patent Index, 75 cents additional. 


7 ] MASSIVE volume of 2126 pages, containing over 120,000 words in its 
©/T vocabulary, with their orthography as sanctioned by the best usage ; 

their pronunciation according to the present usage among scholars, 
literary men, and cultured society ; their definitions in concise, accurate, 
and complete form ; and their etymologies drawn from the most reliable 
sources, and including all the important results of the latest researches 
in philology. 

It contains a New Pronouncing Biographical Dictionary of nearly 
12,000 personages; a New Pronouncing Gazetteer of the World, noting 
and locating over 20,000 places. Containing also a Supplement of over 
12,500 New Words, recently added, ' together with a table of 5000 words 
in general use, with their synonymes. Illustrated with wood-cuts and full- 
page plates. 

Worcester’s Dictionary is the Standard Authority on all questions of 
Orthography, Pronunciation, or Definition, and is so recognized by all the 
colleges of the country, by the principal newspapers and periodicals, by 
such leaders of American thought as Phillips Brooks, Edward Everett 
Hale, George Bancroft, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Irving, Marsh, Agassiz, 
Henry, etc. , and has been publicly recommended as the standard authority 
by the leading newspapers of England and America. Eeading book- 
publishers recognize Worcester as the highest authority, and millions of 
school-books are issued every year with this great work as the standard. 


TESTIMONIALS. 

“The new and authentic etymologies, the conciseness and completeness of the defk 
nitions, the nicety with which the different shades of meaning in synonymes are dis- 
tinguished, and the conscientious accuracy of the work in all its departments, give it, 
in my judgment, the highest claims to public favor.” — Wieuam CuEEEN Bryant. 

“I am a thorough believer in Worcester’s system of orthography , and I consider 
myself fortunate in possessing a copy of the new edition of a Dictionary whic& I have 
always regarded as the best in the English language . The biographical and geo- 
graphical matter given in the new issue adds, of course, greatly to the value of the 
work.” — Hon. T. B. Aedrich, Author. Editor Atlantic Monthly. 

“I lose no opportunity of saying that I find Worcester’s large Dictionary the most 
convenient for use, and by far the best authority known to me as to the present use of 
the English language.” — Edward Everett Haee. 

“On questions of orthography I shall make it (Worcester) my standard.” — Hon. 
George Bancroft. 


For sale by all Booksellers y or will be sent direct by 


J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, Publishers, 

PHILADELPHIA. 


58 


LIPPINCOTT' 8 MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 



IF YOU PUSH 

hard enough you are bound to succeed; but you must have the 
machine that makes hard pushing easy. We have pushed 

The Smith Premier 

to the highest point of typewriter excellence. Experts like it for 
speed, amateurs because it keeps in order. You’ll be surprised at 
the difference between this and other typewriters. 

The Smith Premier Typewriter Co., 

Syracuse, New York, U. S. A. 


Branch Offices in all leading cities. Catalogue mailed on application 



WRITES IN SIGHT 

No Ribbon. Oil Inks, Never Dry Out 

Produces Best Work Known. Fully Guaranteed 
Very Favorable Terms to Good Agents 

Illustrated Catalogue by Mentioning this Magazine 
WILLIAMS TYPEWRITER CO. 

New York, 253 Broadway; London, 21 Cheapside; Montreal, 200 
Mountain Street; Boston, 147 Washington Street; San Francisco, 
409 Washington Street; Atlanta, 15 Peachtree Street. 



Standard 
Writing Machine. 


FREE FOR 30 DAYS. 

If intending to purchase a Writing Machine, ask for SPECIAL OFFER to readers 
“ Lippincott’s” and Booklet No. 14. Good until December 1, 1895. 


NATIONAL TYPEWRITER CO., 


2235 ARCH STREET, 

PHILADELPHIA, PA. 



TYPEWRITER EXCHANGE, 


TYPEWRITER 

We have machines of every make. 
Guaranteed in perfect order or money 
refunded. Sent anywhere with priv- 
ilege of examinatiou. 

TYPEWRITERS 

SOLD. RENTED, EXCHANGED. 

Write us before buying. Send for illus- 
trated catalog of new and old machines. 

214 La Salle Street, 
CHICAGO. 



THE GEM 

PENCIL SHARPENER, 

FOR SCHOOLS AND OFFICES. 
Sharpens both Lead and Slate Pencils. 

PRICE, $3.50. 

F. H. COOK & CO., Manufacturers, 

L.EOMINSTER, MASS. 

Descriptive circular on application. 


Improved SIMPLEX TYPEWRITER 



84: characters. 

Quality of work 
equal to the best. 
Rapid and easy 
to operate. Sent by 
mail or express, pre- 
paid, on receipt of 
$3.35. In hand- 
some hard -w o o d 
case, 50 cts. extra. 


•implex Typewriter Co., 24 & 26 E. 13 th St.,N.Y. 


At i Price 


Bicycles, Sewing machines. Baggies, Harness, 
KarmABlacksmith Tools, Engines, Boilers Mills 
Seales of all Varieties and 1000 other Articles. 
Lists Free. CHICAGO SCALE CO. Chicago, 111. 


TYPEWRITER HEADQUARTERS, 

45 Liberty st., New York, sells all makes under half price. Don’t 
buy before writing them for unprejudiced advice and prices. 
Exchanges. Immense stock for selection. Shipped for trial. 
Guaranteed first-class. Dealers supplied. 52-page illus. cat. free. 



The one perfect lubricant for 
cycle chains is DIXON’S 
579 (Graphite) Lubricant. 

Send l‘ 2 c for sample. 

Jos. Dixon Crucible Co., Jersey City, N. J. 


59 




LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE ADVERTISER. 



Chambers' ’s Encyclopaedia 


Complete in Ten Volumes. 


No literary man, no literary home, no library, can afford to be with- 
out it. It is twenty years later than any similar work, and consequently 
embraces* a large amount of recent information found in no other ency- 
clopaedia. 

The leading men of letters, scientists, statesmen, artists, authors, 
and clergy, have contributed to the work, and the editors have mani- 
fested great care and judgment in the preparation, condensation, and 
arrangement of the large variety of topics, which are treated in alpha- 
betical order. 

The illustrations, specially engraved, are of superior excellence, while 
the maps have been prepared according to the latest geographical sur- 
veys, and represent all the countries on the globe, including maps of all 
the states and territories of this country. 

Numerous articles on American topics , written by American authors , 
are inserted. 

Nothing is lacking to make the work a popular, concise, and reliable 
encyclopaedia of universal knowledge. 

Printing and binding are all that the most fastidious book-lover 
might require. 

If you would like to see a specimen page of the text, or the charac- 
ter of the illustrations and articles, send your name and address to the 
publishers. 


Price, in cloth binding, §30.00. 

Sheep, 40.00. 
Half morocco, 45.00. 


J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, 

715 and 717 Market Street, 

PHILADELPHIA. 


60 


Four Handsomely Illustrated Portfolios. 

Napoleon’s Victories. 

Being Authentic Memoirs of Captain Parquin. Containing 200 illustrations, 20 of which are 
handsomely printed in colors. Bound in cloth; size, 11 x 13^. Made to sell for $7.50 ; 
our price, $1.35. 

A Trip Around the World. 

A Portfolio of Photographs of all parts of the World. By J. L. Stoddard. Containing 256 
full-page plates. Bound in cloth; size, n x 13. Usual price, $ 2.00 ; our price, 75 cents. 

Glimpses of the World. 

A Portfolio of Photographs prepared under the supervision of J. L. Stoddard. Containing 
268 full-page views. Bound in cloth ; size, 1 1 x 14. Our price, $ 2.00 . 

The Art Album. 

A Portfolio containing 128 handsome views. Bound in cloth; size, n x 13. Our price, 45 
cents. 


Handy Volume Classics. 


A collection of some of the masterpieces of English literature, handy-volume size and well 
printed in good type and Ion good paper, handsomely bound in cloth. i8mo. Per vol., 20 cents ; 
by mail, 28 cents. 


Cranford. 

A Window in Thrums. 

Rab and His Friends. 

Vicar of Wakefield. 

Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow. 

Tales from Shakespeare. 

Sesame and Lilies. 

Ethics of the Dust. 

Pleasures of Life. 

Scarlet Letter. 

House of the' Seven Gables. 

Reveries of a Bachelor. 

Dream Life. 

Sartor Resartus. 

Heroes and Hero Worship. 

Uncle Tom’s Cabin. 

Royal Commandments. 

Essays of Elia. 

Undine and Sintram. 

Crown of Wild Olive. 

My Point of View. Drummond. 
Sketch-Book. Irving. 

Kept for the Master’s Use. Havergal, 
Marmion. 

Childe Harold. 

Evangeline. 

The Belfry of Bruges. Longfellow. 
Show at Washington. 

Voices of the Night. Longfellow. 
Poems by Poe. 

Poems by Bryant. 

Poems by Holmes. 

Greek Heroes. Kingsley. 

A Wonder Book. Hawthorne. 
Addresses by Phillips Brooks. 

Snow Image. Hawthorne. 

Blithdale Romance. Hawthorne. 
Outre-Mer. Longfellow. 

Mosses from an Old Manse. 


Twice Told Tales. 

Bacon’s Essays. 

Emerson’s Essays. First Series. 

Emerson’s Essays. Second Series. 
Representative Men. 

Thoughts. Marcus Aurelius. 

Discourses. Epictetus. 

Imitation of Christ. 

Addresses. Drummond. 

Chesterfield’s Letters. 

Lalla Rookh. 

Masterpieces from Dickens. 

Masterpieces from Kingsley. 

Masterpieces from Eliot. 

Masterpieces from Thackeray. 

In Memoriam. 

Lady of the Lake. 

Princess. 

Robert Browning (Selections). 

Religious Poems. 

Idylls of the King. 

Daily Help. Spurgeon. 

My King. Havergal. 

Love Poems by Famous Authors. 

Black Beauty. Lowell. 

Our Village. Mitford. 

Abbe Constantin. Halevy. 

Luck of Roaring Camp. Bret Harte. 
Balzac’s Shorter Stories. 

Two Years Before the Mast. 

The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin. 
Last Essays of Elia. 

Tom Brown’s School Days. 

Poe’s Weird Tales. 

Natural Law in the Spiritual World. 
Paradise Lost. Milton. 

Hyperion. Longfellow. 

Kavanagh. Longfellow. 


JOHN WANAMAKER, Philadelphia. 

61 



62 




qjxrrnjmnjirumnjin^^ 

May I Send You ^ 

“ To 

California 

and Back?” 

It is the name of a delight- 
ful journey and a charming 
book. 

While the book is free, 
the trip is not. You can, 
however, reach California 
over the 

Santa Fe Route 

as cheaply as via any other 
line, with better service 
and speedier flight. 

Our improved Pullman 
G.T. NICHOLSON tourist sleepers meet the 
Room 705, wa nts of those who seek 
economy without sacrific- 
ing comfort. 

rjTJTnjTJTjruTJiru-i njrnjxruirLrirLri 


Address 


Monadnock 

Bldg., 

Chicago. 


When nervous 

irritable or worried 


try 



THE IDEAL TONIC. 


*“Vin Mariani * is exquisite, 
nothing is equally efficacious and 
soothing. I heartily recommend 
it to all who require a calming 

Henri Marteau. 


Mailed Free. 

| Descriptive Book with Testimony and j 

Portraits 

OF NOTED CELEBRITIES. 

Beneficial and Agreeable. 

Every Test Eroves ^Reputation. 
Ayo 5 d Substitutions. Ask for ‘Tin Mariani/ 
At Druggists and Fancy Grocers. 

MARIANI & CO., 

Paris : 41 Bd. Haussmann. 52 W. 15th St., New York. 

London : 239 Oxford Street. 




True Economy 



In buying is to get the best. 

If you would practice true economy 
you will purchase tickets via the Lake 
Shore & Michigan Southern Railway. 
It is the best. The service is not only 
fast, but it’s punctual; it saves time. 


Vestibule Sleeping Cars between Chicago, Toledo, Cleveland, 
Buffalo, New York, Boston, Cincinnati, St. Louis, without change. 


A. J. SMITH, Oen'I Passenger &, Ticket Agent, Cleveland, Ohio. 




uutuu© 




SPEN 


~ 2 SPENCERIAN 

•o PEN CO.N.Y. 


CERIAN 


o 

. bo 
0 • 

■ o M » 

O -*-* t-> 

m 0-0 

O 

r & © 

O ® > 


< si « 

a >» _ ce 

o,EJJ» 


w 




O ^0504 


(0 

K 

KU 


111 


Oj 

* 


5 

•o.S2£ <3 

G p, c <U 
rt ” M 

<u £» u, . 


cti 


OJ 


S y ^ b/) 

8 « JtfS 
tfsJgS 


ur 



C/2 

o 

< 


PH 


J 25 

O 

CO 

pH 

a 



w 


Sold by all the leading Stationers in the United States and Canada. 



3ak)ng PoWDER, 



®®®®®®®®®®®®®®® 


® 

® 

® 

@ 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 


Shape 

That 


feasts 


® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 


The imitation 
may look like it — 
it can’t act like 
it— everlasting 
shape is only in 


Fibre 

Chamois 


® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 

® 


®®@®®®®®®®®@®®® 



You See Them Everywhere 


The Greatest Medical Discovery of the A»e. 


KENNEDY’S 

MEDICAL DISCOVERY. 


DONALD KENNEDY, of ltOXBURY, MASS., 
Has discovered in one of our common 
pasture weeds a remedy that cures every 
kind of Humor, from the worst Scrofula 
down to a common Pimple. 

He has tried it in over eleven hundred 
cases, and never failed except in two cases 
(both thunder humor). He has now in his 
possession over two hundred certificates 
of its value, all within twenty miles of 
Boston. Send postal card for book. 

A benefit is always experienced from 
the first bottle, and a perfect cure is war- 
ranted when the right quantity is taken. 

When the lungs are affected it causes 
shooting pains, like needles passing 
through them ; the same with the Liver 
or Bowels. This is caused by the ducts 
being stopped, and always disappears in 
a week after taking it. Read the label. 

If the stomach is foul or bilious it will 
cause squeamish feelings at first. 

No change of diet ever necessary. Eat 
the best you can get, and enough of it. 
Dose, one tablespoonful in water at bed- 
time. Sold by all Druggists. 


( 


l 

,-C 

(Off 

Hr 
m % 
m 


f 


■oi 
mj 
2 f 


co 


(Vi 

P '* 

^ ct- ■ 

cy “■ 
M ® 3! 

■3 3 • 

O P 

M. H ' 

a p- - 

O u 


5* S’ 


CD 


CC • 
00 

o <; 

* o 

H 


g G- 

tr <• 
2 5B 
p 


h Cl ; 

O 0 . 
p . 


3 g 
&2! • 
» 2 

s a » 

•r * * 

0-5 V. 

e © 

b £ & 
m a a 

s- o , 

» s 


’"d ^ 

CD .. G 


p sr 


g 2 

pt* p 




5- 


0 < 2 . 
H o ^ 
H g. g. 


ST. DENIS HOTEL, 


BROADWAY AND ELEVENTH ST., NEW YORK 

OPPOSITE GRACE CHURCH. 

EUROPEAN PLAN. — Rooms, $1.00 to $5.00 per Day. 



















